


To All the Boys I've Loved Before

by iraellesmera



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Coming of Age, High School Drama, Kid Jongin, M/M, dramatic letters, fake-dating, melodramatic overthinking, meme references, other sm cameos, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26642686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iraellesmera/pseuds/iraellesmera
Summary: Jongdae is just your average high school student without any experience in the tragical romance department, but he does have a penchant for writing the most ardent love letters to his past crushes. He, of course, has no intention of ever sending them. But when bratty younger brothers like Jongin exist.....shit quickly hits the fan.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen
Comments: 40
Kudos: 121
Collections: Shall we Chen? Fictional Fest First Round





	To All the Boys I've Loved Before

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #SWC235: To All The Boys I Loved Before verse Jongdae is your average high school student and then his bratty brother Jongin sends out his hidden love letters from the 5th grade...his life is over
> 
> To the prompter who submitted this delightful idea: I hope I have rendered it some justice and met some of your expectations!
> 
> Thank you also to all the mods for giving me an extension and organizing this wonderful fest!
> 
> And finally to my beta, the lovely Tay: your comments and reactions were the sole reason why I was able to finish (barely lmao) on time. Thank you for supporting me and our dramatic little Jongdae to the end <3.

Jongdae wants to stay calm. He really does.

But it’s already two o’clock in the morning. Crushed cans of soda and tumblers of coffee litter his desk like a minefield. His vision swims and his hands now have a low-level tremble, kind of like being plugged into an electric socket. 

Who is he kidding? He would love to be electrocuted. A charge of any caliber would do him good right now. Jongdae doesn’t need to check the mirror in the bathroom to know that his eyes are bloodshot. This is his third all-nighter in a row.

He knows that he was already standing on a frozen lake when this semester started. Jongdae hysterically ignored all the warning signs, the ice at his feet beginning to thaw, and just piled himself with more extracurriculars, more activities to plump up his college apps. 

But instead of thawing, the ice has cracked and Jongdae is now drowning.

He fucking hates math.

The worksheet in front of him swims in his vision and Jongdae’s not even trying to work out the problems. It’s been an hour since he finessed the answers from Chanyeol, but he still has not finished. And he’s only copying!

While his head’s pounding from a combination of caffeine, sugar, and exhaustion, his younger brother, Jongin, is crowing in his room next door, shouting his victory over his fallen enemies.

Their parents have entrusted the house in their care while they are off on a cruise. Jongdae doesn’t know if they fully understood the implications of leaving two teenage boys alone at home. Oh, for sure they trust Jongdae. He’s the epitome of the good filial son, able to cook and clean, and not prone to rash behavior. Jongin on the other hand…

Jongdae supposes that his parents are considerably overdue for this week-long vacation. God knows they’ve put up with hell since his mom pushed his screaming ass out of her womb seventeen years ago.

And Jongin is a fucking maniac so it is not hard for Jongdae to feel much sympathy toward his parents for raising them so faithfully. 

His younger brother, a prepubescent fifth-grader who is already way too tall, has gleefully commandeered this _Home Alone_ scenario. While they haven’t been robbed (as of yet), Jongin has channeled the spirit of Kevin into making his life hell.

The screaming match they had earlier in the week rings through Jongdae’s ears. He had unplugged the wifi after five consecutive hours of Jongin’s gaming yells from next door, hiding the cable for good measure. 

It was a bit of a dilemma on where to hide it. Jongin had a freaky nose like a dog, able to sniff out his family’s machinations against him. Jongdae settled with stuffing it into their mom’s dresser, in between articles of clothing that Jongin would sooner die than touch. 

It was actually a miracle that Jongdae was able to dash out of his parents’ room in time. It took Jongin approximately ten seconds to figure out why his game started to buffer and his friends’ voices silenced to static.

“YOU’RE GOING TO REGRET THIS!” Jongin had screeched from his room. Lazy ass wouldn’t even come out to confront him. “I’M GOING TO RUIN YOUR LIFE, HYUNG!”

Jongdae doesn’t know why those words give him such a bad premonition. He rummages around the mess to dig out his phone, intending to text Chanyeol. 

_I need a red-eye tomorrow. Come through, dude, please._

His best friend is probably asleep, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

o.O.o

Jongdae wakes to the sticky and smelly feel of drool in the morning. His stomach twists with a sick feeling, but he isn’t sure why. All his assignments are finished though, so Jongdae couldn’t care less. 

He takes a quick shower before clambering into the kitchen, preparing a bagel in the toaster. After burning his finger trying to take one slice out before it is ready, Jongdae slings his backpack over his shoulder and hollers, “Jongin! Your bagel’s in the toaster! Take it before you walk to school!”

There’s no reply, only a dull thud from where Jongdae pinpoints is Jongin’s room. That is all the confirmation he needs. 

“Bye! If you’re on your Switch when I get home, I’m going to kill you!” With that, Jongdae goes outside. 

He plays on his phone for a bit, waiting for the familiar sight of Chanyeol’s gray Nissan. Jongdae really hopes he has the coffee. He’s engrossed in a game of Piano Tiles when his best friend rolls up to the curb.

“Hey!” Jongdae yells in greeting. Chanyeol blearily stares back through the windshield. “Long night?”

“You have no idea,” he mumbles, unlocking the passenger side to let Jongdae in. 

Jongdae crows when he sees the coffee and dramatically cradles it in his hands, sighing heavily at the heavenly smell. “You’re the best, man.”

“You’re going to die if you keep drinking that much caffeine,” Chanyeol mumbles, pulling away from the curb. Jongdae ignores him, directing all his attention to God’s drink.

Chanyeol is awfully quiet as he drives them to school. Jongdae notices but doesn’t speak up. Chanyeol will talk to him when he’s ready.

They pull up into the student designated parking lot, having arrived early enough that they can squeeze into the slots traditionally reserved for seniors. Chanyeol turns off the engine.

“Are you doing anything after school today?” Jongdae offers lightly. “How ‘bout a round around the field after seventh?”

Chanyeol doesn’t answer, fiddling his keychain instead. 

Jongdae frowns and lays a gentle hand on Chanyeol’s forearm. “Is everything okay?” 

Chanyeol stiffens at the touch. Before Jongdae can recoil in hurt, Chanyeol whips his head up and grabs his hands.

“Jongdae,” he blurts out. “You know I love you, right? You’re my best friend, and you know I can’t live without you. I would do _anything_ for you.”

Jongdae is bewildered at the turn of events. “Umm, me too?” He laughs instead to make his confusion known. “You know I love you too, big boy,” he swats Chanyeol playfully. “My ride or die, bro.”

But Chanyeol seems to be more agitated at Jongdae’s words. “Jongdae, I’m sorry I was so blind this whole time. But you know I’ve been seeing Seulgi, and I’m sorry I can’t reciprocate—”

Jongdae puts up a hand, interrupting Chanyeol mid-sentence. “Dude, what are you talking about? Of course I know you’ve been seeing Seulgi. I _introduced_ her to you!”

“This!”

The exhaustion of all his all-nighters evaporates. Jongdae’s world cranks to an abrupt halt when Chanyeol pulls out an envelope from his jeans. It’s inked in a blue, cramped script that Jongdae can recognize anywhere. 

He started looping his t’s and f’s in fourth grade, after a short stint of forced participation in the calligraphy club. Now, all that remains of that bleak era are his loopy letters, alongside his aversion to cursive and writing by hand. (His laptop is the best thing to have ever happened to him.) His handwriting is pretty shitty too, his loopy letters creating a coagulated mess of graphite or ink on paper.

(His pen pal in China, Yixing, would haughtily disagree. “Just ‘cause you’re bad at it doesn’t mean it’s bad!” )

A familiar coagulated mess of blue ink stares at Jongdae, and all the blood drains from his face. He can’t believe his eyes. A stamp on the right-hand corner confirms his suspicions.

Chanyeol stares at him anxiously. Because _fuck, he read the letter inside._

Jongdae wants to die. 

“You know…I wrote that in like, fourth grade. I don’t have a crush on you anymore,” is all he can muster up. “Do you think I still write like that?”

Chanyeol crumples in relief. He rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “I mean…you did spell ‘beautiful’ wrong. For being our newspaper’s news editor, you sure did start off rough.”

Jongdae whacks Chanyeol upside the head.

* * *

I. Chanyeol 

_Hey Yeol,_

_For starters, I think your eyes are the most beatiful thing in the world! No, seriously. They’re so big that I dunno how your eyeballs can fit inside your skull. But anyway, they sparkle like diamonds, especilly when you beat me at Mario Kart. By the way, I’m still mad at you for not telling me how to use the shortcut on Rainbow Road. You know that’s cheating >:/ _

_But you always make me smile with that pretty smile of yours. My face gets really really really hot when you look at me. I hope you didn’t see it._

_I like you, Yeol. Not in the best friends kind of way, because I know how that feels. I like you like how you like Wendy down the street. I like you like how you want to bring her flowers and chocolates and stuff like that. When I helped you try and find coins to buy her that choco bunny at the store, I was really sad._

_Whatever. You suck._

_Just kidding! I think I’ll be okay. As long as you are happy, I can be happy._

_Always your friend,_

_Jongdae_

Jongdae finishes the letter with a huff as they walk to class. He is mortified, but this was addressed to Chanyeol. Besides light teasing (until they die) and possible blackmail in the future, Jongdae knows nothing will come out of this mini fiasco. Their friendship has been tested by far worse things.

Although, Jongdae doesn’t want to find out where a love confession might fit in the spectrum of things, even if he wrote it when he was eleven. 

Chanyeol and Jongdae are BFSD, _Best Friends Since Diapers._ Born only a couple months apart, this naturally meant that their Korean mothers would spend hours together, gossiping, peeling garlic, watching television, or a myriad of other activities they liked to get into. The two boys would stare at their mothers, disgruntled, as the two ladies pointedly ignored them so that they could have some girl-time. 

Even without the not-so-subtle push toward friendship by their respective mothers, Chanyeol and Jongdae would have grown to be joined at the hip. They played together every day, celebrated all the important milestones together, and went to school together. Both sets of parents had been set in calling them ‘Chandae’ whenever the two households met, because where Chanyeol was, Jongdae would be two steps away. There was no point in wasting more breath than necessary.

But maybe their close proximity had done a number on Jongdae, the endearing presence of his friend always in sight. Chanyeol was always very pretty too, a point firmly voiced by Jongdae when he was little. 

“Who’s prettier, Mommy or Chanyeol?” Jongdae’s father used to tease.

“Chanyeol!” Jongdae had chirped without hesitation. Jongdae’s mother would gasp in indignation.

Jongdae doesn’t know when _pretty_ became _beautiful_.

They were sharing popsicles at the beach, a family trip that Chanyeol had tagged along on. Chanyeol handed his popsicle to Jongdae before launching himself at the roosting seagulls, disturbing them so that they frantically flew away in a flurry of feathers.

“Stop!” Jongdae called out. “They’re gonna poop on you.”

“No, they aren’t!” Chanyeol challenged him and Jongdae sighed before sitting down on the sand, sucking on his popsicle.

Chanyeol slumped down in exhaustion after a couple of minutes. Jongdae eyed him pensively, scouring his body for any sign of bird poop. When he deemed it safe, he handed back Chanyeol’s popsicle.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol began sucking obnoxiously. He stared off toward the sea, but Jongdae could only look at Chanyeol. 

His hair was coal-black and windswept, slight tendrils dancing in the wind. Big eyes trained on the horizon line, a straight nose on a familiar profile and lips quirked-up in a smile as he savored the sweetness of the popsicle.

Chanyeol was beginning to significantly overshadow Jongdae in height and Jongdae didn’t know how he felt about that. But seeing him in the dying light of the sun, a salty breeze whipping their faces, Jongdae could only think one thing.

_Beautiful._ Or beatiful.

Jongdae wants to crumple the letters and his ooey-gooey memories along with them. This was so embarrassing.

Chanyeol snatches the paper out of his hand before he can do so, however, sensing his intentions. “Hey,” he reprimands. “This is mine!”

“Well, I never intended for you to read it!” Jongdae jumps up to try and snatch the paper back from Chanyeol, but he is too tall, easily shouldering Jongdae away with a smile. 

“When’d you fall out of love with me?” he teases. 

Jongdae is aghast at the thought. “A _crush_ ,” he whispers threateningly. “I had a crush on you, but it vanished as soon as it had arrived when you farted in my face on Thanksgiving that year. I began to see you as the disgusting monster you are after that and then _boom_ , attraction gone.”

Chanyeol waggles his eyebrows. They share their first-period class, Biology, together. Reaching the lab table they usually sit at with two other girls, Chanyeol and Jongdae put their backpacks down. 

“Wait, so who sent this?” Chanyeol asks quizzically, flipping the envelope over in his hands. “The addresses are written in your handwriting?”

Jongdae pulls out his textbook and binder. “I have no clue. Nobody knows of them.”

“Them?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae says absently, pulling out a pencil as he reviews last class’ notes. “I wrote several others throughout the years.” Then horror dawns in Jongdae’s face and it’s mirrored in Chanyeol. 

Chandae, circa 2003, know each other like the back of their hands.

“Oh my fucking god,” Chanyeol breathes out. “Do you think…?”

Jongdae slams his head down on their table, startling his classmates behind and in front of them. He feels like he might hyperventilate. 

His letters were the literal outlet for him to pour out his heart, sort of an _I don’t have the balls to actually ask you out, so here’s my delusional ass pretending I am._ The next step of Jongdae’s freaky crush ritual was to pen the recipient’s address and stick on the stamps, a symbolic gesture that was completed when his crush went away. 

The fates had decided that Jongdae would never grow his balls fast enough, so now here he was, six letters lighter and having a frightening urge to run away to the Czech Republic. 

This was quickly becoming the worst day of his life.

“It’s okay, Jongdae. We can, uhh, go to the post office. Right now! Yeah, let’s go now!” Chanyeol frantically shakes Jongdae. “Or maybe the mailbox by our street? I think that it’s a federal crime to try and open it, but who cares, we—”

“Jongdae Kim?” a soft voice interrupts them both. Jongdae wants to die. Again. He recognizes the voice.

It’s Kyungsoo Do, another boy in their year. In his hands is another envelope with familiar loopy blue letters. 

* * *

II. Kyungsoo

_Dear Kyungsoo,_

_I never know when you’re mad or sad. You know that meme that has multiple pictures of the same Darth Vader picture? Where they list different emotions but his face is the same? Get it?_

_I’m sorry. I think that might have been mean. Sorry._

_I don’t know why I brought that up. I’m pretty sure that that was only my first impression of you. Something that all our classmates usually say about you. I’m sorry I never speak up louder when they say nasty stuff about you. I promise to do better._

_But anyways I wanted to tell you that I don’t believe that about you anymore. I’ve been watching you a lot (I’m sorry if you’ve seen me. Plz don’t think I’m too weird! :)) I’ve seen your face scrunch up when you get annoyed, or when you pull your ear when somebody talks too loudly. It’s kinda cute :)_

_It’s also really cool that your voice is so deep already. My dad tells me it will happen to all of us boys one day, but yours has already happened and. It. Is. So. Cool!_

_But yeah….I keep delaying it. I think I have a crush on you!_

_*Gasps*_

_I know, I’m sorry. Not sorry that I have a crush on you. But because I will never be telling you in person. Never. Which is weird I know, but I’m never going to be brave enough to send these letters._

_Welp._

_Sorry, I don’t really know what to say anymore._

_Bye!_

_Jongdae_

_p.s. I really like your glasses too, that’s what I forgot to say. I wanted to ask my parents for glasses, too, but they said I didn’t need any. >:( _

_p.s.s. I really liked your solo at the choir concert last week. I was pretty bummed that I didn’t get it (almost to the point where it ruined my crush on you, but shhhhh, keep that a secret), but you were amazing!_

_p.s.s.s. (I promise this is the last one. Whew, this letter is pretty long for one that I’ll never send.) I think you’re pretty cute! <3 _

The trio sits together during lunch, finding the farthest, most isolated table they can amongst their peers. Kyungsoo’s letter sits neatly folded on the table. Chanyeol thankfully doesn’t add to the humiliation by placing his right next to it. ‘Cause wouldn’t that have been great. 

Nobody wants to break the silence. 

But Kyungsoo hesitatingly clears his voice and opens his mouth—

Jongdae beats him to the punch. 

“IjustwantedtoletyouknowthatIwrotethatalooongtimeagoandIgotovermycrushonyoujustaslooongago!”

Chanyeol’s eyebrows rise.

Kyungsoo just stares at him impassively. Jongdae fidgets in his seat, wondering at the effectiveness of his delivery.

“Yeah, I figured,” Kyungsoo says instead, smiling softly. “I’ve read your articles in the newspaper. You sure don’t sound like this.”

Chanyeol guffaws as Jongdae starts to blush. “Umm, thanks?”

“Also, it’s been ages since I wore my glasses to school,” Kyungsoo says as he takes back the letter and opens it up. Jongdae openly cringes. “I thought it was pretty clear when this was written, especially with all of your p.s.’s.”

“How come I didn’t get any p.s.’s?” Chanyeol asks, outraged. 

Jongdae sends him a dark look, conveying _zip it!_ mentally.

Kyungsoo looks at them back and forth before shrugging. “Anyway, I thought it was polite for me to come up to you and at least let you know I received it because it clearly looks like you didn’t mean to send it. But it was fun to read and reminisce about the past.” He pushes the letter back toward Jongdae. “And I definitely wanted to let you know that I did notice you staring at me a lot then,” he teases, eyes twinkling.

_Oh my god_. Jongdae flicks the letter back to Kyungsoo. “Thanks, but you can keep it. Do whatever you want with it. I never want to see them again.” Jongdae’s head pulses, sleep deprivation catching up with him. He groans. “I am never writing another love letter again. I cannot go through with this four more times.”

He doesn’t even want to think about the others.

It’s kind of ironic. When Jongdae wrote all of his letters, he wrote them completely unfiltered, pouring out his heart in the rawest, most honest portrayal of his feelings for the respective person. 

Unfortunately, that meant all the letters differed in the level of intensity. His vocabulary, syntax, and diction advanced with each letter, while the level of hormones and emotions varied throughout.

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s letters were fine because they were clearly young and immature. With Chanyeol he would laugh get teased about it for a while, but that would be the worst of it. Jongdae knew that Kyungsoo wasn’t a malicious person too, hence the trust with keeping his letter. To both recipients, Jongdae’s early, childish writing made it clear how dated it was.

More importantly, Jongdae probably didn’t have feelings for them anymore.

But, fuck. His last letter was a complete mess. 

Jongdae doesn’t want to think about the others, but he definitely doesn’t want to think about Minseok. 

Kyungsoo has been watching Jongdae the whole time. “What are you going to do about the rest of the letters?” he asks brusquely. “Are the others in our grade too?”

“Umm,” Jongdae has to stop and recount his past crushes. “There’s two I don’t have to worry about. They don’t live here anymore, and I can just drop by their old houses to pick up the letters.” 

Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows at that. 

“Asking the current homeowners for permission and explaining the situation of course!” Jongdae cries indignantly. “Honestly, what do you take me for?"

Kyungsoo clears his throat. “Well, based on where the conversation was leading between you two when I walked over, I had a loose idea.”

Chanyeol looks away, ashamed. “Oops.”

“Anyway,” Jongdae musses up his hair anxiously. “Those two I can take care of. The other two…” He feels his face begin to heat up. 

Now the last two letters would be a nightmare.

“One of them is off at college in New York. I might have spitefully addressed it to his dorm, so I can’t do anything about it.” Jongdae lowers his head and crushes his palms into his eyeballs. “At least it’ll take him a while to get it and I have time to prepare for the inevitable.”

“And the last letter?” Chanyeol offers helpfully.

“It’s not good,” Jongdae groans. “I don’t know what I was thinking. He’s the absolute _worst_!”

“And he’s in our grade,” Kyungsoo supplies not helpfully.

Jongdae looks up at him, aghast. “How’d you know?”

“Well, I think that’s him walking over, no?”

* * *

III. Baekhyun 

_Baekhyunnie!_

_Hi! Wow, I have never started off a letter like this before._

_I'll say the things I like about you, and then I’ll say the things I don’t like about you. You know, just to keep things spicy and figure out what exactly my feelings are._

  1. _I can’t believe you’re good at every sport we do in P.E. It’s also kinda unfair how good you’re at rock climbing. Like seriously, what the heck!_
  2. _You’re also so good at math. I hate math. But you’re so good at it. I always hide my face when Ms. Li tries to call on people in class, but luckily, you always raise your hand. I don’t know if that’s annoying or really neat._
  3. _All the girls like you. I know all the different girlfriends you have had this year (btw, I was NOT keeping score! Irene is my seat partner in English and she’s alwwwayyyys talking about you and your newest girlfriend. I’ve learned to sorta ignore her, but that’s mean so I try not to do that too much.) Anyway, I don’t really care about all your girlfriends. Thought I’d like to mention that here._



_Things that you can do better……:(_

  1. _You pretend to be mean. Sure, I’ve never seen you bully anybody or stuff like that, but you know what I mean. Your “friends” sure aren’t like you tho, and you never stop them when they bully others. That makes you a bully too, Baekhyun._
  2. _I know you’re a nice person inside. If not, I don’t know why I’d like you. When Mark slipped on the mud last week, you ran over immediately to help him up. Even if it meant getting mud on your white sneakers. You do small things like that, but it’s always getting covered by the stupid crap your friends pull._
  3. _Stop making Ms. Li mad in class. I know you’re really good at math and you’re ahead of all of us, but it’s getting annoying when you try to argue with her on the “different” ways to solve the problem. Nobody cares, Baekhyun. I know you couldn’t move up to the higher level class because you’re new this year, and that we all liked it when you wasted class time for us in the beginning, but it’s not so fun anymore._



_Whatever. I’m sure there are a lot more things I can write here. (For both lists, mind you.) But I’m kinda sleepy now. Maybe I’ll add more stuff later._

_Be better!_

_Love,_

_Jongdae_

Baekhyun Byun is the epitome of the word _jock_ (but he’s also really smart.) Jongdae doesn’t know how he thought he would be able to outrun him.

As soon as the jarring sight of artificially colored hair comes into view — it is currently bubblegum pink — Jongdae runs for cover, leaving all his things with his equally shocked friends.

“Ey, Jongdae. Come back here!” Baekhyun bellows. “I think I have something of yours!”

If Jongdae wanted to be discreet until this whole debacle blew over, his chances grew slimmer by the second. With the school’s Golden Boy screeching at the top of his lungs, even their table’s relative distance from the others doesn’t have much effect. The entire student body stops to stare at them.

(Chanyeol recounts all of this with derision a couple of hours later.)

He manages to make it to the football field when Baekhyun slams into him. They crumble onto each other in a heap, Jongdae wheezing as the wind gets knocked out of him. Baekhyun just sits up, falling back on his rump and setting his arms down straight behind him. He tilts his head, a pink lock curling over his forehead, studying Jongdae.

Jongdae curses loudly. He is so fucked.

“This,” Baekhyun holds up another of the damned letters, “was lowkey flattering and insulting at the same time,” he announces. “I can’t tell if it’s a love or hate letter.”

“Please, stop,” Jongdae groaned. “I take everything back. Please, just go away.” He springs up, wincing slightly as he tries to flee again.

“Why?” Baekhyun bounces lightly on his feet, keeping up with Jongdae’s speed-walking effortlessly. “Didn’t you think of the repercussions of _actually_ sending out the letter? I don’t know about you, but this seems extremely private to me. Hell, I feel that way even though I’m the recipient!”

Jongdae tries to walk faster. “That’s because I never intended for them to be sent out,” he snarls. “And I _am_ dealing with the repercussions now.” He stops, pointing at Baekhyun up and down. “Look at who is in front of me!”

Baekhyun clutches his chest in mock-hurt. “Hey! That’s mean.”

“I don’t care. Suck my dick.”

Baekhyun whistles merrily. “I mean, if you want me too.”

Jongdae whips his head to stare at Baekhyun in horror. “ _What_?”

Baekhyun casually waves the letter around. Jongdae hisses at the blatant exposure of his darkest secrets. “I mean, looks like the feeling was mutual, eh?”

“I was _twelve_ years old, you dipshit.”

“And twelve-year-olds aren’t horny?”

“Not normal ones, _no_!”

“Well then,” Baekhyun eyes him critically. “I guess I wasn’t normal,” he says, winking. 

Jongdae is at a loss for words. This has truly been the worst week of his life.

“Oops, gotta go now,” Baekhyun says as he takes out his phone. “See you later, Jongdae!” 

And with that, Baekhyun takes off. The metaphorical dust settles in the spot he has vacated, but Jongdae is still speechless.

o.O.o

“Yes?” Jongdae doesn’t check the caller ID when he blearily answers his phone. He doesn’t even want to check what time it is.

“ _Jongdae!_ ” somebody cries. “You still up?”

Jongdae squints at his screen. It’s an unknown number. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

“Oh, man. I’m kinda disappointed,” the voice teases. “You forgot about me already?”

“Wouldn’t I need to know who this is in order to be disappointed?” Jongdae asks sharply. “Please, school just ended. I need to get started on a shit load of assignments. Could we do this tomorrow?”

“Just?” the person asks in confusion. “Jongdae, it’s eight o’clock. You took a nap or something?”

Jongdae swears. He pulls his finger down on the phone screen. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

His caller waits patiently as Jongdae suffers another mental breakdown. He has to finish writing his paper for English, review vocabulary for his French quiz tomorrow, put edits in an article, and then finish another _goddamn_ assignment for math.

Jongdae absolutely, should not have dared to fall asleep. 

Eight o’clock!

“You okay there?”

“No,” Jongdae replies morosely. “I’m not okay.”

“…Wanna talk about it?”

Jongdae considers it. He doesn’t even know who this is. They could play therapist for one night and come morning, Jongdae would never have to face them and watch the recognition flick across their face because he wouldn’t know who to look out for.

But then again, this was exactly the kind of irresponsibility that got him landed with six mistakenly sent letters. “Who is this?”

“You used to have a lot of thoughts about me, some spicy and some sweet.”

Jongdae’s stomach plummets. “How’d you get my number?”

Baekhyun chuckles. “A man never reveals his secrets, Jongdae. I have my sources.”

“Of criminals?”

Baekhyun tuts. “No baby, they’re my little birds. And one of them told me you’re shit at math.”

“First of all, I’m not your baby,” Jongdae tiredly mumbles. “Secondly, tell your birds to fuck off.”

“But one of my little birds told me that you haven’t called today for your daily dose of answers to copy,” Baekhyun said innocently. “I’m the TA for one of your level’s classes. Even if you copy, I don’t think you can finish tonight’s worksheet without at least two hours.”

Jongdae groans at the thought. “And? Why do you care? Are you going to do it for me?”

“Bingo,” Baekhyun says it so seriously but cheerfully, a bizarre juxtaposition that makes the cogs in Jongdae’s dead brain whir in confusion. 

“I’m sorry, _what_?”

“I. Will. Do. Your. Homework. For. You,” Baekhyun enunciates every word. “Tes devoirs, los deberes, _nuh_ _sookjae!_ ”

“I understand,” Jongdae snapped. “How are you going to do it, huh? Are your little birds going to fly you over here?”

There is a sudden _plink_ from the window. Jongdae frowns. He trudges his way over, the phone still to his ear. When he pulls open his blinds, his jaw drops.

“I’m here!” Baekhyun waves from down below, his lips mouthing the words in front of his phone. “Come down!”

Jongdae freezes. 

But the overwhelming urge to chuck all his math homework at the local math genius is irresistible. He pulls his laptop from its charging cable and takes it in hand along with his math homework. Jongdae’s halfway out the door when he realizes that he doesn’t know if Baekhyun brought any writing utensils, so he goes back in and grabs a couple of pencils and an eraser.

Jongdae’s house is at the end of the street, conveniently located near a grassy park that hosts a couple of picnic benches. As soon as he got Jongdae’s confirmation, Baekhyun situated himself down on a bench, legs crossed out in front of him and hands jammed in his pockets. 

His pink hair gently rustles in the evening air.

Jongdae can hear Baekhyun’s whistling as he gets closer to him, and for some reason, his heart starts beating anxiously.

_You piece of shit, stop that._

“Hey,” Baekhyun greets him happily as Jongdae settles down across from him. “You look like hell.”

Jongdae sighs, tossing over his folder instead of replying to the gibe. He rolls over the pencils and eraser, but Baekhyun shakes his head and rolls it back.

“Thanks, but I don’t need it,” Baekhyun spins a pen in his long, spindly fingers. “I don’t make mistakes.”

“Ass,” Jongdae grumbles, but then a sudden thought seizes him. “Wait! Our handwriting…won’t it be obvious?”

Baekhyun flashes a wide, boxy grin. “What do you take me for? I can mimic your handwriting. I had your wonderful letter to study, you know?”

Jongdae stares back at him in horror. He dismisses the shock quickly though because he has no time to waste. 

He can cram for French during lunch tomorrow, but the other stuff has to be finished before school starts the next day. He opts to tackle English first. 

As he waits for his internet browser to load, Jongdae cautiously watches Baekhyun work on the problems. There hasn’t been so much as a peep from the other boy since Jongdae relinquished his homework, and Baekhyun exudes an uncharacteristic thoughtfulness as he solves the problems at a rapid pace. Jongdae’s mouth falls open.

“Careful,” the Einstein drawls. “You don’t want a bug to fly in.”

Jongdae clamps his mouth shut but sticks out his tongue. The next couple minutes lapse into silence once more as Jongdae pulls up his essay and begins pounding aggressively on the keyboard.

It’s mindless work, this essay. Granted, one that he should’ve been timing himself for, but Jongdae doesn’t know where his academic integrity is. Oh right, he threw it all out the window. 

Exhibit A, TA Byun doing his homework a couple of inches away from him. He wonders why Baekhyun offered to do his homework for him. _Couldn’t_ have been his impressive love letter.

Baekhyun looks up to see Jongdae’s intense scrutiny. He cocks his head playfully. 

“Like what you see?” he smirks. “Thought you were over me a long time ago.”

Jongdae lets out a frustrated sigh. Why can’t he focus? 

Baekhyun peers around to look at his screen. “English paper, huh?”

Jongdae nods.

“Tell you what,” Baekhyun finishes an equation with a flourish, effortlessly drawing a square around the final answer. “You finish up that paper and me, this worksheet. Then I’ll tell you why I really called you out tonight..” Then he frowns. “You can’t possibly have more homework, right?”

“Sounds foreboding,” Jongdae mumbles, shrugging in response to his question. “But okay.”

He finds it easier to concentrate after Baekhyun’s proposition. It’s a wondrous thing, motivation. Maybe Jongdae should call up Baekhyun more often.

He bullshits his conclusion, because what is a conclusion if it’s not just a regurgitated intro paragraph, right? He usually tacks on a very philosophical ending to his plagiarized-from-intro conclusion paragraphs, but today, he’s run out of all patience for this stupid essay.

Jongdae carelessly submits the essay without reading over his work.

“Done,” he declares, shutting down his laptop. “What do you have for me?”

Baekhyun looks up, pink bangs curling over his eyes. Jongdae fights the urge to tuck it against his ear, but Baekhyun simply blows it away.

“Wow, talk about perfect timing,” he comments, neatly flipping the worksheet back to the front page before presenting it to Jongdae. 

“You’re done?” Jongdae asks, flabbergasted. “I-” 

“I can do this shit in my sleep,” Baekhyun proudly announces, and Jongdae can’t even find it in himself to scowl. It’s kind of cute, the way this nerd confesses his love for trigonometry. It rings true: one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

Jongdae flips through the pages, feeling a little heartburn when he sees the completed problems. How he’s going to replicate this standard on future assignments and assessments is beyond him. 

Baekhyun waits impatiently all the while, practically vibrating by the time Jongdae puts the papers away. Jongdae squints in the moonlight, but it’s hard to tell why the other boy is so worked up.

“Well? What is it that you have to tell me?”

Baekhyun considerably calms, and there is something akin to apprehension that enters his eyes. It’s gone in a flash however, and his customary buoyant smile returns. 

“Pretend to be my boyfriend,” he declares, “and I’ll tutor you in math, free of charge.”

Jongdae doesn’t register anything beyond ‘boyfriend.’

“What-” 

Baekhyun interrupts as if he didn’t drop an atomic bomb on Jongdae. 

“Let me finish,” he says brazenly, and Jongdae’s mouth clamps shut. He’s so stunned that he can’t help but obey, much less fight back. 

“My girlfriend broke up with me a week ago, and her attitude right now is pissing me off,” Baekhyun continues nonchalantly. “She said that we weren’t working out, but that I shouldn’t blame myself, because it was her not me.”

Jongdae dimly recalls Baekhyun’s girlfriend, or _sorry,_ ex-girlfriend. Taeyeon Kim is elfin and petite, but she exudes a scary, boss-bitch persona that no one dares to mess with. In fact, if Jongdae is remembering their school’s tabloid-like gossip correctly, Baekhyun was her first relationship to last longer than three months. All of her exes, boys and girls alike, had an average dating expectancy of around two weeks.

Jongdae, driven to exhaustion and worn to the bone with his own business, didn’t really have an opinion on the school’s power couple. As far as he was concerned, they looked well together visually, although he too wondered about their compatibility when news had first broken about their dating.

Baekhyun is straight-A’s and valedictorian material, popular and gregarious with his peers and adults alike. A literal golden boy, who, when shining too brightly, tempts Jongdae into smacking the silly grin off his face (totally not because he used to have a crush on him.) 

But Taeyeon is the direct opposite, openly scathing and rebelling in all her classes. It’s not uncommon to hear about the latest explosions of her infamous temper, and there are always rumors that she acts out to antagonize her father; he’s rich and loaded, but an absent parent. 

Taeyeon is just so perpetually angry, and Baekhyun shoots out rainbows from the tendrils of his hair. Jongdae wasn’t one to judge, but he remembers thinking that they were rather an odd match, too. 

Meh. Love is love, and Jongdae knew he was not one to talk, unsent angsty love letters and all.

“We’re teenagers,” Jongdae says blandly. “Aren’t you expecting too much from a high school relationship?”

“You don’t understand,” Baekhyun answers earnestly, and Jongdae resists the urge to snort. “She has her own problems and so do I, but we were getting better at communicating. Hell, we even made plans for after high school, how to long-distance if it came to it.” 

Baekhyun says all of this in a level and reasonable voice, and Jongdae can’t help but feel curious. They may be teenagers, sure, but Baekhyun displays an amount of maturity about the breakup that certainly doesn’t sound delusional. Jongdae just wonders where this is going.

“So I asked her, ‘What do you mean, it’s you not me? If you’re going to break up with me, then give me a legitimate reason. Don’t push me away with the bullshit that you give everyone else,’” Baekhyun recounts, and this time, the sadness is a little bit more evident. “She just stormed off and blocked me. When I confronted her at school the next day, she told me she cheated on me with another guy.”

Jongdae is floored. This is becoming a soap opera, and he doesn’t know whether he should comfort or laugh at Baekhyun. He chastises himself for the latter and opts to comfort.

“Err, Baekhyun? I’m sorry for your...loss, but um, what does this have to do with me?”

“Because it just doesn’t make sense!” Baekhyun throws his hands into the air, tugging aggressively at his hair. “Look, Jongdae, we used to ask these dumb ‘what-if’ questions to each other, and do you know what we had discussed one time?”

“....no?”

Baekhyun drums his fingers on the table. “‘Hypothetically, what would be the dealbreaker for our relationship? Like what could we withstand together as a couple, and what could we not survive.” He pauses, and Jongdae isn’t sure if it’s for dramatic effect or if he’s lost in his memories.

“I told Taeyeon that it would be cheating,” Baekhyun finishes softly. “I told her that I could forgive her for anything, but cheating.” He tilts his head, gaze piercing. “Don’t you think that there is something off here?”

Jongdae is still confused. He has zero experience in the dating category, and he’s not even interested in girls, so how would he know? Frankly, it logically seems like Baekhyun is heartbroken and simply projecting. 

But the other boy is rather emotionless about his breakup, or in the traditional aspect of it. And his entire demeanor is just...off.

So, Jongdae chooses his next words carefully.

“You two were rather morbid,” he shrugs neutrally. “Why would you even voice things like that? It’s like you are willingly inviting in something to mess with your relationship.”

Baekhyun’s nostrils flare. Interestingly enough, the first sign of anger that he has shown all evening is directed at Jongdae, not Taeyeon. 

“Are you saying I’m crazy?”

“No,” Jongdae placates, holding up his palms. “Look at it from my point-of-view. Even if you tell me all of this, I’ve only heard from your side of the story. Unless you want me to march up to Taeyeon and ask her why she broke up with you, I can’t have a firmly entrenched opinion!” Then he scowls. “What’s this have to do with pretending to be your boyfriend?”

“Because now she’s cozying up with some girl!” 

There it is, the jealousy. Baekhyun Byun is full of surprises, but even Jongdae doesn’t expect this one-eighty degree turn.

“Fine, I’ll admit it: we weren’t doing so well as a couple. We mutually decided to take a break but agreed to reconsider our options three months after. But Taeyeon said she broke up with me, and the reason was that it was because of _her_ , not me. And then she backtracks and says that it’s because she cheated on me with another _guy_ , but now she’s holding hands with another _girl_?!” Baekhyun rants. 

“On top of that, she’s been leaving school early for a couple of days now, and that’s weird! If Taeyeon Kim were to ditch, then you’d know for sure that she’d go all out and ditch the whole day, but in the middle of a period, that’s _fucking_ unheard of? Also, she hates the registrar, but—” Jongdae raises his eyebrows. 

Baekhyun abruptly stops mid-sentence, expression bemused. 

“Go on,” Jongdae prods him, “you were saying?”

“Your eyebrows are a perfect 210 and 330 degrees,” Baekhyun says instead. He sticks out both index fingers, crosses his wrists, and makes said angles. “Look!”

“ _What_?”

Baekhyun pouts. “I know you hate math a lot, but don’t tell me you haven’t memorized the unit circle for this unit? Jongdae, you can’t do that!” he chides. And then, with the speed that can rival a King cobra, Baekhyun sticks his angled hands onto Jongdae’s face.

Cool fingers land on his eyebrows and Jongdae lets out an involuntary shiver. Baekhyun cocks his head, wiggling his fingers infinitesimally down and up. Jongdae belatedly realizes that he’s adjusting them to a unit cycle imprinted onto his psycho mind. 

“There,” Baekhyun breathes. “Now it’s perfect.” His gaze wanders down to Jongdae’s face. 

Now it’s his turn to throw his hands up in the air. 

“Of course I know the unit circle,” Jongdae says exasperatedly. He waits for Baekhyun to take his fingers off his face. 

Only Baekhyun doesn’t bother to move. His eyes bore into Jongdae’s, searching.

The air between them stills, the lingering awkwardness from the initial touch disappearing. It’s replaced by something else, and a permeating buzz that settles on Jongdae’s skin. 

He can no longer feel Baekhyun’s touch, but a tether still connects him there. It pulsates gently, the epicenter of this buzzy feeling on his eyebrows.

Baekhyun finally breaks the moment by looking away and letting his arms fall to his side. They flutter restlessly, fingertips dancing like they’re playing on a keyboard.

Jongdae clears his throat.

“I guess that’s a little weird,” he admits, humoring Baekhyun a bit. “So, what’s the endgame for this? You wanna get back together with her or something?”

Baekhyun falters. “I…”

“Because this is a lot of strenuous thinking that you’ve done, and it’s going to take a lot of effort to pull off,” Jongdae says breezily. “You said she’s pissing you off? Well, defined ‘pissed.’”

The other boy frowns.

Jongdae redirects the conversation. “Like it or not, Baekhyun, you are going to become emotionally invested in this… _act,_ ” he tells him gently. “Hell, there’s no way you aren’t already. I call bullshit on this nonchalant act. She broke your heart, and this is your coping mechanism.” 

Baekhyun’s face falls. He looks like a kicked puppy.

Jongdae coos internally. Dummy didn’t let him finish. Outwardly, he flicks Baekhyun on the forehead. 

“But I digress,” Jongdae tells him brightly. “If this is your coping mechanism, then why not? In the end, she is the one who ended things, and a little rebound never hurt anybody right?”

Baekhyun looks horrified. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“This was _your_ plan,” Jongdae scowls.

Baekhyun waves his hands in acquiescence. “Fine! A little rebound never hurt anybody! Does this mean you’ll date me?” The spirit returns to his eyes, filling with glee. 

Jongdae is glad to see him perking up, but he still grimaces through the somersaults his stomach makes with the word _date_.

“Slow down, tiger,” Jongdae says hurriedly. “You don’t know for sure if Taeyeon is dating that new girl, or the guy she cheated on you with. Allegedly,” he adds to Baekhyun’s pointed look. 

“As a matter of fact, this is all hearsay,” he continues. “She could be lying, she could be telling the truth. Your suspicions may come from kernels of truth or you’re just in denial.”

“Hey!”

“Regardless, it doesn’t look like Taeyeon will be completely honest with you,” Jongdae rolls over the interruption. “So yeah, if this is how you’ll get over her, or even get back together with her, I will help you. For free tutoring, hell yeah!”

“Wow,” Baekhyun says, almost listless. “I can’t believe he actually agreed.”

“Because I’m nice,” Jongdae snorts. “You better improve my grades.”

“Uh-huh. You’re sure you still don’t like me? We can make this real, babe.”

A pen is thrown at his face.

* * *

IV. Sehun 

_What in the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you? You look so smart but you act so dumb. You’re like the opposite Ba—, the rat?_

_But I digress. (Also, sorry, that was kinda mean. I have a tendency to do that)_

_My birthday is on September 21st. S.E.P.T.E.M.B.E.R. Chanyeol’s birthday is November 27th. Like, hello? Turkeys? Gravy? PIE?_

_I get that we’re both Korean, and the two of us have known each other for a long time. BUT WAIT, see where it doesn’t make sense??? You’re ALSO Korean, and Chanyeol’s like, five inches taller than me!!!_

_HOW COULD YOU CONFUSE THE TWO OF US? AND FOR THE WRONG MONTH?_

_DUDE, I CANNOT._

_Must be the hair. All those bleach chemicals addling your brain. You’re JUST LIKE that rat._

_Why am I writing this letter? BECAUSE FOR SOME REASON, I THINK YOU’RE PRETTY CUTE, AND I NEED TO END THAT SILLY INFATUATION RIGHT NOW. I WILL PUT A STAMP ON THIS ENVELOPE AND POOF, BYE BYE!_

_All anger aside, why you? We literally have nothing in common and I don’t know why my next letter is addressed to you._

_But lmao, Sehun, Chanyeol says my type is Korean guys. So I guess there’s no reason why it can’t be you._

_RIP MY STANDARDS!_

_Just kidding, I’m really sorry. I need to stop being an asshole. I promise._

_Love,_

_Jongdae_

_(i think it’s the height. It has to be the height? Or else i dont understand. Granted, i did have a crush on chanyeol too, so ig it makes sense. But that doesnt explain the rat? But the rat is into girls. ????????)_

Chandae, combat-style, creep to Sehun’s old house the next morning before school. 

As an army brat, Sehun Oh vacated their town months ago, ensuring that retrieving this letter would be confrontation-free. In fact, Jongdae was half tempted to just leave this one be, but Kyungsoo advised him against that.

“Better safe than sorry,” he said simply.

Kyungsoo, surprisingly willing to help Jongdae’s unfortunate predicament, already scouted the front of the property and gave them the okay signal. They hadn’t wanted to loiter too long in front of the house, hence the preliminary scan.

“The mailbox is literally bursting at the seams,” he had reported via phone. “I know we had discussed talking to the new owners, but damn, you can probably open the mailbox and find your letter right on top.”

Chanyeol grins. “Never knew Do had this side to him.”

Jongdae shakes his head blearily. “Me neither.”

But he doesn’t feel as sleep-deprived as he usually is. Probably having to do with the fact that there is a Baekhyun-induced frenzy running up and down his veins.

God, how was he going to explain this to Chanyeol?

“Ready?” Chanyeol cracks his knuckles aggressively. 

Jongdae winces. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he tells Chanyeol moodily. 

Chanyeol pats him gently on the knee. “It’ll be over soon,” he says solemnly.

Jongdae’s blood curdles. It was so not over.

The plan they decided on was to casually stroll up to the mailbox so that Jongdae could sift through the contents. Chanyeol would be on triple duty by watching his back, updating him on the time, and providing the dearly needed moral support.

Kyungsoo had opted out of this part of the expedition citing an assignment he had to finish up before school. Also, they were supposed to be sneaky, so the fewer people involved, the better.

_“_ Besides,” he said. “Somebody has to bail you guys out if you get arrested.”

“Thanks,” Jongdae had mumbled. “My mom will really appreciate that.”

“Mine too!” Chanyeol chimed in before Jongdae ended the call.

Once out of the car, Chanyeol looks around furtively. Jongdae’s heart races.

Sehun’s old house is nestled behind a park, a halfhearted attempt at a chain-link fence surrounding the private property. If they happened to be caught, maybe they could claim that they had wandered off from the park? That they had been throwing— no, racing each other, entered the private property unbidden, and then had crashed into the mailbox? Or that—

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol hisses. “Breathe.”

Jongdae squeezes his eyes shut. _In and out. In and out. We are totally not breaking the law. Should we revert back to our old plan?_

Then he skids to a stop, eyes bugging out. 

The mailbox is, for the lack of a better word, fat. The metal is dented in odd sections down its length but grossly inflated in other parts. It looks like a can that has been chucked down a cliff then repeatedly resuscitated by stretching before proceeding to be boiled in a volcano. 

The letters are another story. Kyungsoo needs to use more adjectives because it does not look like they will find his letter right on top. 

“Wow,” Chanyeol whistles. “The mailman or woman must really have a vendetta against this place.”

“Looks like you after Thanksgiving,” Jongdae says.

Chanyeol kicks him in the shin. Yowling internally, Jongdae flips him off. 

“After you,” Chanyeol sneers, posturing himself in the direction of the mailbox.

Jongdae forces his limbs to move. Pulling the door down produces the sharpest ear-splitting shriek known to mankind and the two freeze. It takes a turn for the worse when a deluge of envelopes flood to the ground, covering Jongdae’s shoes in a blanket of paper.

“Well,” Chanyeol says in resignation as he pulls the sleeves of his sweatshirt up his forearms. “Do you remember what color the envelope was?”

Jongdae nods his head miserably. 

“White.”

Chanyeol groans.

“Uh, more off-white, perhaps?” Jongdae offers tentatively, poking around the envelopes still shoved in the box. “Pretty sure I used a blue pen.”

“...helpful.”

o.O.o

The minutes tick toward the tardy bell. Chandae becomes more and more nervous with each bated breath, flipping through the envelopes for any sign of an off-white, blue-penned envelope. 

It’s predictably a large pool. 

“What color stamp?” Chanyeol demands after a substantial period of silence. The sudden question throws Jongdae off-balance and his legs give up from the squat it was glued in.

His butt lands on the sidewalk. Hissing in pain, Jongdae tries to remember. 

“The, um….flag?”

“I need more descriptors than red, white, and blue!” Chanyeol blows his gasket. “Whatever possessed you to waste an _actual_ stamp on these!”

Jongdae glares at him balefully. 

“What part of my knotty self must I explain to you about?” He jabs a finger in his friend’s direction. “You know that I’m an ingrained attention seeker who compliments that lovely trait with the tendency to bottle up emotions. OF COURSE I’D PUT A STAMP ON!”

“That makes NO SENSE!” Chanyeol raises himself to his height, and _oh_ is it a generous height. Jongdae’s hissy fit turns to one of apprehension.

“Don’t you dare,” he whispers. “Don’t you dare!”

But Chanyeol is an unpredictable piece of shit, and Jongdae watches in horror as his best friend gathers up a clump of letters in his arms before standing back up, eerily reminiscent of a fighter opening up its bomb bay.

The deluge comes unexpected. One envelope skewers him in the eye, and Jongdae plans bloody murder until he sees the front of it.

_Jongdae Kim_ , printed in an effervescent green ink, loopy letters and all, marks the sender’s upper left-hand corner.

“IT WAS GREEN!” Chanyeol’s eyes pop out with fury, raising another batch of envelope rain. “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

Before Jongdae can react to that, another voice enters the fray.

“Aren’t you guys too old to be play-fighting?” a cool voice inquires. Jongdae’s stomach sinks.

Of all people. 

Baekhyun comes closer, full of aplomb, and toting one heavy backpack above another. 

“Should I be worried?” he gestures to the mess at their feet. “What are you guys doing?”

Jongdae surreptitiously tries to hide Sehun’s letter but alas, it is not to be. Baekhyun lasers onto the envelope that now lies conspicuously under Jongdae’s butt. 

“What’s that?”

“Nothing!” Jongdae says with false cheer. “Aren’t you late for school? I thought you had volleyball practice.”

“Volleyball is after school, dumbass,” Chanyeol hisses. “What is he doing here?”

Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “Got a problem with me?”

“Do you consider yourself a problem?” Chanyeol shoots back.

Jongdae looks back and forth between the two of them, confused.

“Uh, guys—”

“Didn’t that skater dude live here?” Baekhyun interrupts him. He purses his lips, stretching out his backpack straps as he thinks. “Sahon? Saewon? Seahoon?”

“It was Sehun,” Chanyeol enunciates the syllables. “ _Sehun_.”

They stare each other down. Jongdae fidgets, but he seizes this opportunity to successfully tuck the letter into the folds of his jacket. He immediately banishes all thought of it, out of sight and out of mind.

The two boys have not budged when Jongdae looks back up. He sighs.

“I don’t like this energy here. Are you guys done?”

Baekhyun’s face snaps back to Jongdae, and eyes boring into his. Now Jongdae physically squirms, feeling the weight of their agreement. He knows he’s being too transparent, especially in front of Chanyeol, but he cannot help but feel a queasy heat enter his system, hijacking his heartbeats.

He is powerless in stopping the blush that blossoms across his cheeks, and aptly horrified when Baekhyun gives him a lazy smirk in response.

He can hear Chanyeol breathing in consternation. 

“Never thought this day would come,” Chanyeol says disbelievingly. 

_What?_

“This week was particularly auspicious,” Baekhyun tells him. “Written in the stars, I tell you.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “Didn’t know you were a sage too. Why, need a little something more for college?”

Baekhyun scoffs. “Why not?” he says haughtily. “Got to put some good use into these family talents of mine.” 

A loud bark interrupts Chanyeol’s retort. 

Three pairs of eyes whip toward the source, and Jongdae’s heart lurches into his throat when an ominous, furry brown shape runs into view. 

“What _is_ that?” 

Said furry brown shape is rapidly coalescing into a furry brown canine, and _why does it seem a lot bigger than before?_ Jongdae rubs his eyes and wonders if his expired contacts have finally begun to addle his brain.

The dog stops by the fence, snout dripping in saliva as it menacingly stares them down. A growl rips from its throat and three identical flinches appear on the boys.

“Enough talking,” Baekhyun says, even as nobody had uttered a word. “Let’s skedaddle.”

“Great idea,” Chanyeol backs away slowly. Eyes warily trained on the snarling dog, he gathers all the remaining envelopes into his hands to shove them back into the mailbox. Jongdae slams the door shut as soon as his fingers leave the vicinity.

In order to not alarm it (although appeasement looks pretty unlikely right now), they take to hushed whispers as they back away even more, now off the curb and out on the sidewalk. The dog follows them as they go, rattling the chain links.

Chanyeol offers Baekhyun a ride without hesitation when he reveals that he is on foot. Jongdae would warm at this poorly concealed olive branch — although he has no clue why there had been animosity between them in the first place — but all thoughts have been possessed by the dog, who is now chomping on the metal links, pawing the dirt ferociously.

The car is five feet away when the fates decide that they are to be punished for their misdeeds. Chanyeol had skirted around the other two in order to begin jiggling open the car door, but he’s not fast enough, cursing and dropping his fob.

That does them in, and in the span of two seconds, the dog somehow jumps over the fence. It barrels toward them at breakneck speed, and Jongdae watches his life flash before his eyes.

“Jongdae, get back!” Baekhyun shouts.

_So that you can get mauled? What’s the point?_ Jongdae mulishly thinks, but he feels his feet pivot, obeying his command when-

Baekhyun, with lightning-fast reflexes, yeets his two backpacks off in the general direction of Chanyeol. He then proceeds to whip his jacket off his back, swinging it in front of him like a blanket.

_Oh._ Behind him, Jongdae hears Chanyeol curse in alarm.

But with perfect accuracy, Baekhyun flings his jacket like a bullfighter. The oversized denim spins and lands neatly on the dog, covering it. It freezes, shuffling back and forth. 

“Will it be okay—” Jongdae starts to reach toward it when Baekhyun roughly pulls him back.

“None of your bleeding heart! We were about to die!” he yells.

Jongdae begins to protest, but then Chanyeol whirs into action, shoving Baekhyun’s backpacks into the back seat and hauling him in after. 

“Jongdae, that dog is bigger than Jongin,” Chanyeol reassures. “It will be fine.”

Baekhyun clambers into the shotgun seat. “Hit it, Park!” 

As Chanyeol floors the car, Baekhyun immediately turns around and scrutinizes him up and down.

“You okay?” 

Jongdae nods mutedly. But before he can say anything, Baekhyun’s gaze shifts upwards. Jongdae turns around to see what has caught his attention.

Sure enough, the dog has managed to detangle itself from the jacket. It gives them a menacing snarl as they cover more distance, and with vengeful fury, starts to rip the denim apart.

Baekhyun gives Jongdae a withering glare.

“I’ll buy you a new one!” Jongdae hastily offers. Baekhyun pouts.

“It was a hundred twenty dollars,” he mournfully says. “And I got it on _sale_.”

Chanyeol chokes. 

o.O.o

Baekhyun requests to be dropped off at the west entrance.

The sad demise of that oversized overpriced jacket aside, Baekhyun returns to his usual animated demeanor as they ride the car. And despite getting off on the wrong foot, he and Chanyeol hit off in the car, chattering about their daring escapade and all things nonsensical. 

When they arrive, Jongdae pushes the two backpacks in the direction of the door so that Baekhyun can easily retrieve it. 

“Thanks,” Baekhyun cheerily says. He brushes his hands against Jongdae’s when the straps are passed over. 

The touch sends a jolt down his spine, and Jongdae can feel his cheeks burn. He hastily turns away as soon as Baekhyun shuts the door.

He misses Chanyeol’s bugged-out eyes. 

“Alllllllrighty,” his friend drawls. Jongdae looks at him in confusion. “Where to park?” Chanyeol adds jauntily.

But before he can switch gears, there’s a knock on Jongdae's side of the window. He can see Baekhyun’s grin through the glass and feels a wave of apprehension. 

Chanyeol, the ever-loving ass, rolls down the window for him.

Baekhyun reaches an arm across and _pinches_ his cheeks.

“I’ll see you during brunch?” he asks, eyes crinkling into crescents. “I’ll come by your table.”

(Chanyeol tells Jongdae later that he looked like the Almighty Loaf.)

“Uhhh, what? Why?” Jongdae stutters. “No. Yes, brunch. My table. Gotcha.”

Baekhyun smiles unabashedly. He relinquishes his cheeks and pats them gently before stepping back. “Sounds like a plan.” 

Chanyeol begins hollering when the car _finally_ moves away. Jongdae stumbles out of the car, knees wobbling. He knows he ought to explain that this is all very temporary and very much so fake, but his tongue has frozen.

“Damn, bro. You snagged Byun?” Chanyeol continues whooping. “The letters did you two a number, huh? I told you that there would be a silver lining to all of this!”

“No, wait, Chanyeol, we’re not really—”

“Sure, Jan!” he yells. “I’ll see you later!”

* * *

V. Junmyeon

Junmyeon’s letter was just really really really…

If all his other letters were earnest and hopeful, (as hopeful as it can get, especially since Jongdae never intended for them to be sent), then this one was just plain horny. It was _that_ stage.

_Junmyeon_ , 

[REDACTED]

_God help me,_

_Jongdae_

Junmyeon was hot. So incredibly hot. His face and his body were hot. Jongdae is normally very opposed to the objectification of anybody, but damn, one could not describe Junmyeon in any way but _hot_. 

His blood boils at the thought, and Jongdae is very reluctant to dissect the components of those thoughts. 

Anyway, somebody has to burn that letter.

“You should sit with me during Mass,” Jongdae had shyly offered to this hot, church Oppa (or church Hyung in his case. Jongdae might spontaneously combust if he dwells too long on _Junmyeon_ ).

Junmyeon only laughed, delaying a response that sent Jongdae’s mustered courage plummeting down to his knees. The older boy ruffled Jongdae’s hair, and the crushing feeling skyrocketed back up his system. 

“Sorry, I have to work. I’m passing out the pamphlets, remember?”

Perfect Junmyeon, with his elegantly coiffed hair and pressed slacks, was an absolute dream. Jongdae did not feel too good about polluting this wonderful image with his dirty thoughts. Which was basically the entirety of that letter.

As Jongdae regales the entirety of this crush’s timeline to his friends (ninety percent of the actual details omitted), Kyungsoo abruptly puts up a hand to stop him. 

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I am pretty sure Junmyeon is Buddhist? I know he helped out during the weekends, but he is definitely not Christian.”

“WHAT?”

Well, he could adjust that fantasy.

o.O.o

Anticlimactically, Junmyeon’s letter is retrieved without much pomp. Rather than risk another run-in with an incensed dog, Jongdae reluctantly knocks on the door to his house. 

Kyungsoo, who was surprisingly on close terms with Junmyeon and his family, saves his ass again. He explains the situation to Junmyeon’s mom, minus ninety percent of the details that Jongdae had told him.

The letter is unopened, and Jongdae knows whatever good luck he had accrued from his past lives has been halved with this transaction.

Five down, one more to go.

(But woe unto him. With Minseok’s, it would inevitably be a disaster.)

o.O.o

“Dating” Baekhyun didn’t really change much for Jongdae. A younger him would have been delighted at the prospect of gaining entry into high school’s upper echelons, but sleep-deprived Jongdae no longer cared.

There was, as expected, an uproar the day when Baekhyun turned and gave him a big smack on the cheek. Jongdae was thankful that it wasn’t on the lips, but the feeling did not extend beyond that as Baekhyun had done the deed in the middle of the lunch line.

As all eyes zeroed in on them, Jongdae tried to appropriately school his expression, but it was difficult to do so as a chain reaction set off in him: butterflies had immediately formed in his stomach, and then those dumb insects traveled up to start attacking his chest. 

The thundering of his heartbeat silenced the heavy stares around him, and Jongdae could only see Baekhyun.

Baekhyun. Baekhyun. Baekhyun.

Jongdae tried giving Baekhyun a shy smile in response, but his cheeks felt numb as he tried to lift them up. 

Baekhyun winked at him.

“Oh my god,” Jongdae heard Chanyeol muttering. “My eyes.”

Things were a blur for Jongdae after that. He couldn’t wait to get to his table, but the line predictably slowed as whispers erupted all around the cafeteria. 

Wherever Jongdae looked, somebody stared back with expressions of awe, shock, or alarm. He had to avoid Baekhyun at all costs because his heart was still seizing up. Chanyeol would clap a hand on his back and say something stupid like “Not in front of my salad!” 

“Stop holding up the line!” the lunch lady irritably called. “I’m going to close the register in five minutes if y’all keep dawdling!”

Jongdae sighed. _Math lessons. Math lessons. Things will be fine, and you are getting something out of this. Baekhyun Byun…._

_No, Baekhyun Byun will give me math lessons._

Despite the positive words of affirmation, (or perhaps because he voiced the illicit details of their bargain) Taeyeon was the next face that his eyes slid against.

Matador Baekhyun was only a week ago, and they had gone public a few days after. Jongdae hadn’t been too fond of the idea of screaming “WE’RE DATING!” to everyone and their dog, which Baekhyun had easily agreed to. Although for the purposes of gaining Taeyeon’s attention, that should have been the way to go.

With Baekhyun’s latest stunt, however, now everyone and their dog would know. It was time for Jongdae to begin upholding his part of their agreement.

Contrary to the rest of the student population, but customary for her, Taeyeon’s face was practically emotionless. 

But her gaze was steely, and the way her eyes darted between Baekhyun and Jongdae was unmistakable.

Jongdae cringed. What did he get himself into??

o.O.o

One of the few pluses in the sea of all-things-gone-wrong was Kyungsoo. In spite of the terribly awkward nature that had brought them together in the first place, Kyungsoo had fit in naturally with Chanyeol, Jongdae, and a couple of other boys in their extended friend group. 

Kyungsoo hadn’t been a loner type per se, but working in the cafeteria during brunches and lunches had effectively robbed him of much social interaction; his usual group of friends also primarily resided in the library. Old crush notwithstanding, Jongdae was glad for Kyungsoo’s steady presence. 

Albeit psychologically, Jongdae wondered what it meant for all of his close friends to be old — but never really ignited — flames. 

(His latest email from Yixing was troubling: _You're fucked!_ was his cheery response.)

Chanyeol has plans to go on a date with Seulgi after school, which leaves Jongdae without a ride. But he doesn’t mind. It’s a nice sunny day and Jongdae reasons that a walk will improve his constitution after so many days of being cooped inside and psychological acrobatics with his repressed crushes.

“Oh my god,” Jongdae mutters. The embarrassment hits him at the most mundane parts of the day. He could be anywhere and doing anything, from washing his hands at the restroom to handing someone a pencil, and then suddenly feel a spike of anxiety and nervousness.

He is dating Baekhyun. 

“Dating,” Jongdae says aloud, putting air quotes in front of him. He then trips over a rip on the sidewalk.

In this solitary, quiet path that Jongdae finds himself in, his thoughts wander, and they aren’t pretty. 

It should feel like a revelation, but for Jongdae, _of course,_ it isn’t. Jongdae can’t deny that he finds Baekhyun cute. Not in the smart, scruffy, and skinny Baekhyun he was when they were younger, but the taller (they are practically the same height but shhhh) and more mature Baekhyun now. 

He thinks that there is an l-word somewhere mixed in there, but even the free market that is his consciousness has to be regulated. He’s not going to let his dumb brain part the sea and demand Jongdae do something that he has no guts to.

“Not another letter,” Jongdae groans. “No more, please.”

o.O.o

Inadvertently (who was he kidding, of course this had to have happened), midnight tutoring with Teacher Byun is quickly becoming the best part of Jongdae’s week. Two months into their arrangement has been doing wonders to Jongdae’s math scores, but there is a significant lull with the whole Taeyeon operation. 

They had agreed to reassess their plans after gauging her initial reaction, but Taeyeon had expectedly given them no ammunition on that front. They are no closer to figuring out her secret than they were two months ago, and yet, Baekhyun doesn’t seem to mind.

He rarely brings his ex-girlfriend up either, which puts Jongdae in a bind. 

It honestly seems as if he doesn’t _care_ anymore, but how could that be? Baekhyun is still wholeheartedly dedicated to his part, and if he is still maintaining their agreement, shouldn’t Jongdae do too?

That same train of thought went in circles and circles. Jongdae didn’t want to broach the topic and neither did Baekhyun. Meanwhile, Taeyeon’s odd behavior — as described by Baekhyun — hadn’t ceased.

_Silver lining, Jongdae_ , Chanyeol’s voice sternly washed over him. _Silver lining._

Jongdae wanted to scream. 

Even as the tutoring was going well, it was not without its own burps.

Despite everything that had transpired between them, Jongdae had felt a sliver of trepidation when he headed out for his first session. 

This was the only time of day where there weren’t any prying eyes, and in all honesty, Jongdae was not sure what kind of face Baekhyun would come wearing. Would he be the extroverted Baekhyun, approachable, loud, quick to laugh, and talented in all things that came with the mantle of popularity?

Or maybe he would be solemn, dropping all pretense in order to get straight to business? Jongdae had seen that side of Baekhyun occasionally during important games and tests, his signature smile completely winked out of existence. 

There was also the contemplative and easygoing Baekhyun. This version of Baekhyun was best exemplified when he was exercising all of his academic prowess in thoughtful discussions, or even in instances where he had excitedly tried to explain some obscure formula or laud the ingenuity of a twice-baked cookie.

Jongdae supposed that there was also the mean and petty Baekhyun, but that little ass was representative of the recipient in whom twelve-year-old Jongdae had sent a scathing love letter to. 

But the Baekhyun who came out to their midnight rendezvous couldn’t be pigeonholed into any of the aforementioned Baekhyuns.

He was just...Baekhyun. 

Yixing, the only individual who was completely privy to all the details, had sent an alarmingly fast reply in response to Jongdae’s classification of all the Baekhyuns.

_Jongdae, you have got to stop overthinking. He’s not a Pokémon, and you’re making him sound like he has a dissociative identity disorder!_

_Now, if he does have DID, I stand corrected, but I bet you’re bullshitting me right now. Anyway, what’s done is done with your weird-ass deal with him so just get out there and focus on your Times Tables!_

_Also, have your parents received the care package from us? I kept dropping hints because I wanted to know if it had been mailed alright, but all your emails have been about Baekhyun! You like him, don’t you?!_

First off, Jongdae was not that bad at math. 

As for the digs regarding his _sentiments_ toward Baekhyun...that was a stern “no comment.”

Despite that, now, during another study session under the stars, Jongdae stops and thinks about the boy in front of him. Baekhyun’s pink head is bowed down towards the surface of the picnic table.

As Jongdae had attained enough mastery of this particular concept, Baekhyun had elected to bring his own school work tonight, giving Jongdae free reign over a couple of problems.

But with the air devoid of their voices and no sight of Baekhyun’s fingers dancing across his page, Jongdae’s brain naturally starts to wander.

Yixing’s accusatory question and the Minseok locked inside of his proverbial Pandora's box whispers.

Once upon a time, it was Minseok across the table, doing what Baekhyun had committed himself to do now. Patiently explaining the concepts that Jongdae convoluted in his head, guiding a gentle finger down the paper as Jongdae scratched out number after number, and praising him with a dazzling smile when he’d completed a set without any mistakes.

Talking for hours and hours about the seemingly inconsequential things. Sharing loves and passions in addition to dislikes and drudgery.

Baekhyun catches Jongdae looking at him.

Jongdae has fallen for less but nothing has ever caught him as off guard as the way Baekhyun does now, eyes filling with light and a pretty smile blooming across his face.

o.O.o

There is a troubling weight that sits in his stomach when Jongdae wakes up. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, but there is no way to get rid of the revelation from last night. 

“You’re going to be late for school!” his mom calls. “Both of you are going to regret it if you don’t come down in ten seconds!”

Jongdae groans, but reluctantly throws his covers off. He stumbles out into his room, half-relying on the smell of breakfast to get him to the table in one piece. Jongin comes in with a similar manner, legs wobbling and bed hair in all its glory.

There are warm bowls of oatmeal sitting for them both, and Jongdae digs into his with gusto. 

“Thanks, Mom,” he tells her hoarsely. She tuts at Jongdae’s prominent dark circles but kisses him on the cheek nonetheless. Jongin reacts to that with derision, sticking his tongue out.

Their mom retaliates by sticking her fingers into Jongin’s hair, combing through the rats’ nest roughly. Jongin yelps and tries to bat her away, but it’s of no avail.

“Jongdae,” his mom says suddenly. “Jongin’s going to take your bike on the school field trip today. Can you give him the chain for yours?”

“Why, what’s wrong with his?” Jongdae asks.

She makes a dismissive motion with her hand. “Think a dog or something chewed through the tires. It looks bad.” When Jongdae looks at her with horror, his mom hastily backtracks. “No, no, not here. It happened a couple of weeks ago when he left his bike at the park. He told me about it yesterday.”

Their mom thankfully busies herself with something else then, because there is no hiding the expression of horror on Jongdae’s face.

_Oh my god._

Jongin tactfully avoids his gaze.

Jongdae narrows his eyes at his younger brother. “You biked to the park, huh?” 

He feels like a tea kettle about to scream.

o.O.o

“That. Stupid. Little. SHIT!” Jongdae does end up screaming. “I turned off the fucking WiFi and he does _this_ to me?”

Baekhyun sits beside him, a scooch farther than usual. Jongdae looks one wrong move away from an explosion.

They’re sitting on the football field. Morning dew sticks to their bums. First period will start in less than ten minutes, both of them have classes on opposite sides of campus, but Baekhyun wisely ignores all of it in favor of consoling Jongdae.

Although, he’s doing a rather shoddy job at it.

“At least he didn’t open the letters,” Baekhyun hesitantly pats him on the back. “That’s a silver lining right?”

“You and Chanyeol and that goddamn silver lining!” Jongdae cries out. “There’s only black and white! You either step in good shit or bad shit.”

“The same, all shit is,” Baekhyun croaks, trying at his best for a Yoda impression. He bends his elbows like a dinosaur. “See the silver lining, one should. Because washed off, all shit can be.”

He leans in close to Jongdae, lips puckered, and claws out to snag him. “Give me a kissy, you should.”

Jongdae shoves Baekhyun off him, but Baekhyun manages to tease a smile out of him. 

“Score!” he yells. There’s a glint in his eyes, one that Jongdae can’t decipher until too late.

Jongdae scrambles away. “Nuh-uh! Back off, Baekie.”

Baekhyun stops short. 

“Becky?” he says incredulously. “Becky with the good hair, Becky?” He crouches and leans in, arms caging Jongdae. Although they’re not technically touching, Jongdae feels the weight of Baekhyun pinning him down. His eyes bore into his, and they are blazing. “Are you cheating on me, Jongdae?” Baekhyun whispers, his tone light but lurking with something dark. 

Jongdae cannot look away. He is absolutely transfixed. 

Baekhyun’s gaze drops to his lips.

Fear sings in Jongdae then. They are reaching the point of no return and he knows that Baekhyun is aware of that fact all too well. There’s a sea of unanswered things between them and they swim in front of their eyes now: a letter delivered via bike, lessons under the moonlight, an unfathomable girl. A house made of cards. 

All of these variables can extend the expanse between Jongdae and Baekhyun. But Baekhyun shuts them all out, at least temporarily, when he closes the gap. 

o.O.o

The tardy is fucking worth it. 

Jongdae thinks more hopefully about the l-word a lot more.

“Becky with the good hair,” Jongdae mutters to himself as he makes his grand entrance to Biology. “My Becky has pink hair.”

He makes eye contact with Chanyeol, whose eyebrows shoot up. 

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Jongdae?” his teacher dryly asks as Jongdae makes his way over to his seat.

“No,” Jongdae answers apologetically. “Just pressed the snooze button one too many times.”

His teacher rolls his eyes and resumes the lecture on the screen.

Chanyeol immediately launches onto him when Jongdae sits down.

“The snooze button?”

Jongdae avoids the question and flips open his notebook. He tries to peer over at Chanyeol’s to see what he has missed, but Chanyeol blocks his view by twisting his face all up in Jongdae’s.

Jongdae jerks back in alarm. “What?”

A slow grin takes over his face. Chanyeol retreats out of Jongdae’s personal space but for some reason, it feels like Jongdae’s the one who lost.

“Your hair looks like it’s been swallowed by a vacuum,” Chanyeol comments. “Quite the suction power it must have had, for your neck to be that red.”

Jongdae turns beet-red as Baekhyun biting down on his neck flashes across his mind violently. He hurriedly tries to raise his non-existent collared shirt.

Chanyeol snickers.

o.O.o

There had been more action than words, so Jongdae doesn’t quite know where they stand. 

Baekhyun, who has taken to sitting with Jongdae and his friends during lunchtimes, is there when the period ends. Jongdae suddenly halts, feeling a little shy about how Baekhyun would greet him.

Steeling himself with a simple ‘hi,” Jongdae strolls over to their table with faux bravado, but the word dies on his lips when Baekhyun notices him and their eyes meet.

Jongdae becomes hyper-aware of every single detail. Baekhyun has little moles on his cheek and upper lip, little dots that would have taken the lightest of touches on a canvas as pristine as his. And his lips, while small and compact, are capable of doing the most _carnal—_

“Cat got your tongue?” Baekhyun teases. He pulls Jongdae closer by the backpack strap. “What’s wrong, kitty?”

Jongdae winces at that but rolls his eyes. He puts his backpack on his left side, but then thinks better of himself and switches its orientation. 

Baekhyun raises his eyebrows at the backpack that suddenly divides the two of them.

“What is this, a fence?” he says disdainfully.

“If it were like the olden days, this would be like our chaperone,” Jongdae says primly. Baekhyun’s eyes glimmer at that, memories of this morning lingering between them. His expression twists into a smirk. 

Jongdae chokes and starts hacking out his lungs.

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo thankfully make their entrance then. “What’s wrong?” Chanyeol inquires, whacking his back helpfully.

“Nothing!” Jongdae yelps. He fixes a steely eye on Baekhyun, who has taken to zipping open Jongdae’s backpack, inspecting the contents.

Kyungsoo follows Jongdae’s line of sight. He shakes his head in disapproval but a merry smile dances across his face. 

“Stay safe, kids,” he advises. 

Never mind the fact that Kyungsoo was the youngest out of them.

o.O.o

Jongdae throws himself down onto a grassy knoll at the park near his house, feeling a little more than euphoric from the day’s events. He giggles to himself, and because Baekhyun Baekhyun Baekhyun might actually _like him back_?

Jongdae momentarily sobers. He likes Baekhyun. Like, _likes_ him. Instead of the customary groan that thought should have usually been accompanied with, Jongdae laughs with happiness.

He feels liberated.

With a rare combination of no obligations, extracurriculars, plus perfect weather, Jongdae is more than willing to lounge around the field like the caterpillar. Nothing can dampen the feelings of jubilation right now, and when Baekhyun texts him a meme a couple of seconds later, Jongdae is ready to explode into a cloud of sparkles and rainbows.

_stopppp. focus on your practice!_

_i dont wanna,_ he sends back, and Jongdae can just hear the pout in his voice. _coach is doubling the amt of drills today. imma ditch i swear. where u at babe_

Jongdae fights a grin. 

_haha nice try…... no_

Baekhyun keyboard-smashes his indignation. 

Feeling a little bad, Jongdae sends him a nice selfie, one that he had taken a couple of weeks ago during a midnight jam session to Bruno Mars. 

Jongdae just knows that if he were to send one of himself now, Baekhyun would somehow slip between his coach’s fingers and come dashing over. Even if they only meet at night, this particular park has become something of a second home between them. Jongdae wouldn’t be surprised if Baekhyun could recognize a blade of grass and attribute it to here.

Jongdae sees the typing bubble pop up and then out. There are a couple of seconds before Baekhyun tries again.

_wow_

_that ass_

Jongdae flips him off via emoji.

o.O.o

After his extended siesta at the park, Jongdae bikes to the stationary store downtown. 

There are so many things that he wants to tell Baekhyun, but the words always die on his lips before he can voice them. Which is strange, because, for Jongdae, there is a tidal wave of emotions where it concerns Baekhyun. 

_I’ve never met anybody like you. A person who makes me laugh no matter the occasion, no matter the....._

_.….Baekhyun, I don’t think I truly believed in soulmates before you came back into my life….._

_Becky, you’re a literal sunbeam. All the pretty words in the world cannot encompass you, but so many of these things in the world are you….._

Within this convoluted and cringy expanse of his mind, one thought crystallizes. He has to write another letter. 

But this one would be so _real_ , a pure love letter where Jongdae could express himself freely, unfettered by the confines of doubt. He knew he could come off as a little reticent, shy with the naturally affectionate Baekhyun, but Jongdae could not bear for Baekhyun to be unaware of just how much he reciprocated Baekhyun’s adoration.

If Baekhyun was a sunbeam, Jongdae would move the stars and moons to bask in him. 

Jongdae laughs at that, an image of Baekhyun as the Teletubbies’ Sun Baby flooding through his mind. He visualizes sunny yellow and light orange paper for his letter.

The stationary store is one of the businesses in the ring of quaint mom-and-pop shops surrounding the hub of the city. Jongdae weaves through the roads with ease, passing by pedestrians and cars alike with bright smiles and cheery greetings. 

They watch him go by with confusion.

After locking his bike, Jongdae steps into the store, bell chiming his arrival. He breathes in deeply to the comforting scents of lavender and sandalwood before setting off on his mission. 

True to his daydreams, Jongdae picks out a lemony-yellow sheaf of papers that are accented by a light grain. He also eyes a pen; the testers reveal a thick and glossy ink, but Jongdae stops his bad retail habits from striking again. Blowing his money on paper is already overkill. If anybody finds out about this, he will never live it down.

Jongdae quickly pays before he latches onto something else. Just as he accepts his change, however, Jongdae sees a slim figure pass by outside.

His spidey senses tingle. 

_Taeyeon._

What was she doing here?

Suddenly, Jongdae feels a wave of apprehension. Taeyeon is still the lurking variable in their relationship. Baekhyun, that insufferable bastard, had kissed him without sorting through his relationship with Taeyeon. Now, he might have done that internally, but Jongdae hadn't been privy to his thoughts. 

The guilt that had swarmed him when they first went public returns in full force. 

Jongdae wants to walk away. Taeyeon is downtown just like him, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. It’s not any of his business.

But he remembers Baekhyun’s hopeful face during that first night, pleading with Jongdae as he stood in the ashes of his old relationship. Baekhyun deserves to know what had happened, and Jongdae could not be selfish about that. He had promised.

There was a chance that he could uncover the first, veiled clue that had eluded them for so long. 

Jongdae sighs. 

He sends a silent apology to Taeyeon for what he’s about to do.

o.O.o

Predictably, Taeyeon has the senses of a cat. That, or, Jongdae is just really bad at spying.

“Did he send you after me?” Taeyeon snarls. They don’t need to specify who.

She caught him not even a full block away from the stationery store. Jongdae feels his omnipresent headache rise again.

“...no?” Jongdae tries innocently. “I’m going this way too.”

Taeyeon raises her eyebrows. “And what destination, exactly, is in this way?” She cocks her head in the direction they had been heading down.

“My bike,” Jongdae responds weakly, but he knows he has been caught by the way Taeyeon’s nostrils flare.

“I saw a bike rack right next to that store you came out of,” she says frostily. 

Jongdae raises both hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, yes! I was following you.” He winces. That didn’t come out right. “I just— Baekhyun we….”

“Of course,” Taeyeon sneers. “Why, did he not have the balls to come ask me himself?”

“But you blocked him!” Jongdae protests. “How was he supposed to know?”

Taeyeon snorts. “That, dear, is the first customary step one takes after a relationship ends. Baekhyun not tell you any of that?”

Jongdae wilts under her glare. 

“I’m really sorry,” he mumbles. “I just really wanted to help him find out what had happened…between you two.”

Something falters in Taeyeon, but it quickly flashes away. She crosses her arms against her chest, judging him critically.

Jongdae feels like a butterfly pinned on a corkboard.

Aggravation then flits through her features, her hands reaching down to twist the hem of her black sweater. 

“Oh fuck it all! If you are that curious, come with me.” She grabs his wrist and pulls.

They march down to the end of the street, Jongdae swirling with trepidation and Taeyeon with her head up high. A nondescript three-story building appears to be their destination, but there are no markers to indicate what kind of place it is supposed to be. As they get closer, Jongdae sees there is a buzzer installed into a panel to the right of a door.

Taeyeon walks up to the building and presses the buzzer. A crackly voice emits from what Jongdae supposes is the speaker.

“Good afternoon. How may I help you?”

“My name is Taeyeon Kim. I have a four o’clock appointment today.”

There is staticky silence for a couple of seconds. Jongdae fidgets, shifting from foot to foot.

“Alright, Ms. Kim. Please come on up.” The door emits a buzz to let them in. Jongdae reaches out to open the door for her, but Taeyeon stops him with a hand to his shoulder.

“Jongdae,” Taeyeon exhales, and her tone is a far cry from the aggression earlier. She sounds exhausted and a wave of fatigue seems to crash into her body as her gaze unfocuses. Her hand concurrently slips from the bar she was holding onto, and Jongdae automatically reaches out to steady her.

Alarm courses through him. “Why, what’s wrong?” Jongdae asks worriedly. “Do you want me to get help?”

“No, don’t worry,” she murmurs breathily. “It’ll pass.”

“What will? Taeyeon, you look sick.”

“Thanks,” she snaps back at him. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Jongdae recoils. Taeyeon sighs. 

“I’m not sick, per se,” she clarifies. “But my….condition does have similar symptoms, I suppose.” She wheels around to look at him in the eye. “That’s the thing, Jongdae. If you come up with me right now, you will find what it is that I’m sure you and Baekhyun have been so anxious to find out about.” She hedges a bit, and Jongdae can see her brain trying to find the right words. 

“I can keep it from Baekhyun, if you would like,” Jongdae says softly. “Baekhyun and I, we are–” here he stumbles, because this could be a can of worms, recent developments aside. He shakes his head resolutely. “Whatever you tell me in your confidence, I won’t tell anybody else. Even notwithstanding my agreements with Baekhyun.”

“Notwithstanding…..what?” Taeyeon raises her eyebrows. “Aren’t you guys dating?”

Jongdae curses internally. 

“Yes, we are,” he asserts shakily. He doesn’t move to clarify and Taeyeon thankfully doesn’t push him.

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t really care whether he knows or not.” She dusts off her sweater and stands firmly on her feet. Her sentence seems unfinished from the way she taps her fingernails onto the bar.

“For your sake, he shouldn’t know.”

Jongdae tilts his head in puzzlement. “Why?”

“Jongdae, this is your last chance,” Taeyeon says instead, and Jongdae can hear _pity_ in her voice. “This is something that I can bear alone, and I am completely fine with that. But the moment you discover what this is, it might affect _your_ relationship with Baekhyun.” The signs of weakness that had momentarily appeared before him are gone, replaced by her usual merciless attitude. 

Taeyeon looks frail, thinner than Jongdae remembered her being. But those outward characteristics fail to belie the grit outlined in her every muscle, determination trailing her movements. 

As for Jongdae, the dread that had settled into his skin, funneled deep in his blood and bones, has now been fully absorbed. What’s left is a dawning resignation and an uncontested acceptance, because Jongdae knows that he can never keep Baekhyun in the dark. Not even if it seems like he has moved on by choosing Jongdae. 

It would be so selfish, so incredibly selfish, for Jongdae to deprive Baekhyun of _this_. 

The lightbulb has finally flickered on.

He figures it out. It makes sense, Jongdae supposes her frequent absences, the apparent deviations from her routines, and other things that Baekhyun had initially obsessed over. Jongdae still doesn’t understand why Taeyeon would break up with him over it, but all the other puzzle pieces fit together.

She is pregnant.

The words spill from his mouth before Jongdae registers what he is saying. 

“I believe congratulations are in order,” he tells her warmly, and Jongdae isn’t surprised to know that the feeling is absolutely genuine. “I will make sure to tell him the news for you.”

Taeyeon shakes her head disbelievingly, searching his eyes for any hint of pretense. 

“Of course you would say that.” She looks down at her stomach. Jongdae looks at it with renewed interest, but if there is any protruding bump, the sweater does an effective job at covering it. “I’m not surprised he fell for somebody like you.”

Jongdae’s smile turns a little brittle, but he covers it up quickly with that of a gentle one.

If she only knew.

“Why wouldn’t I congratulate you? This is truly wonderful news,” Jongdae says softly. He pulls out his phone immediately, intent on calling Baekhyun right then and there. “He should be here right now. I’ll call him—”

Taeyeon snatches the phone away from him. 

“What are you doing?” she demands. “Baekhyun doesn’t need to know. I am perfectly capable of handling the pregnancy by myself. Believe me when I say that we are truly over and that you don’t need to ruin your relationship with him because of this.” 

It’s only with Taeyeon’s explicit confirmation that Jongdae finally understands the implications of this revelation. He idly wonders if his house of cards was always destined to burn down. 

As much as she is loath to admit it, Taeyeon can’t possibly do this alone. No, Jongdae doesn’t doubt her strength, but with Baekhyun in the picture, it would be better for everybody involved. Jongdae doesn’t know the statistics for teenage pregnancies, but he is sure he ought too…

Oh my god. He doesn’t know what to do.

Taeyeon brings him out of his hysteria, awkwardly patting him on the back. 

“Here. Why don’t you come on up with me? There’s nothing you don’t know now and I think a cup of water would calm you down a bit,” she says pragmatically.

Jongdae nods dumbly. He finally pulls the door open and the two of them ascend the stairs up into what Jongdae supposes is a clinic. Despite her earlier fatigue, Taeyeon nimbly climbs up the stairs, even going up two steps at a time. Jongdae, on the other hand, stumbles, mind still warping over the news. He feels a wave of anxiety at seeing Taeyeon dart up so fast, then has to remember that pregnancy is not a debilitating condition.

“I’m sorry,” Taeyeon suddenly tells him at the top of the stairs. “I would never have told you if I had known you’d be so….selfless.” 

“No, if anything, it’s our fault,” Jongdae wheezes from the exertion, not quite comprehending her words. “We thought you were hiding some big secret. Baekhyun had his money on that because you said you were cheating on him, which was a big relationship no-no.” Jongdae stops and grimaces in confusion. “Or something like that.”

Taeyeon snorts. “That paranoid ass.” 

“For real.” Jongdae giggles. Taeyeon looks at him strangely.

o.O.o

A cup of water does him some good. So does the news that the baby is now the size of an orange.

Baekhyun’s baby.

Baekhyun and Taeyeon’s baby. 

For some reason, Taeyeon lets him into the examination room with her. Jongdae sits down on a plastic chair near the door of the room, fascinatedly watching the ultrasound occur. He coos when what he supposes is the baby appears on the monitor.

Taeyeon shakes her head while the doctor laughs. The doctor turns to wink at Jongdae. “First time seeing your baby, dad?” 

“I’m gay,” Jongdae reflexively blurts out.

The doctor looks at him confusedly while Taeyeon shoots him daggers. His blood chills when her dark glare is replaced by a twinkle.

“You weren’t gay last night,” she menacingly says.

Jongdae chokes on his spit.

o.O.o

_Why don’t you want him to know?_ Jongdae wants to ask Taeyeon. He feels a little more melancholy now, the high from the initial discovery having ebbed away. 

How was he supposed to break this news to Baekhyun?

Jongdae and Taeyeon leave the clinic together, looking oddly like a couple but everything but. They walk back down the street in silence, Taeyeon lost in thought and Jongdae trying to muster up his nerve in order to ask her.

“Taeyeon,” Jongdae finally pushes his mouth open. “Why—”

Just then, his phone rings. Jongdae swears and takes his phone out, already expecting it to be who he thinks it is. Luck just isn’t something that is granted to him regularly.

Baekhyun’s obnoxiously cute profile flashes across his scene. Taeyeon notices, and she bites her lower lip in what Jongdae realizes is a snicker at his contact name: Becky.

“You guys are disgustingly cute,” she drawls. “What does he call you? Day?”

“Shhhh!” Jongdae whisper-shouts in panic. “What am I going to say to him?”

Taeyeon’s easy grin disappears. 

“Hey, I don’t fucking know!”

Jongdae throws his hands into the air. “Your parents are impossible!” he points at Taeyeon’s stomach.

They are still bickering when the call dies, but Baekhyun is nothing short of persistent, and another phone call comes through immediately at the conclusion of the first. Taeyeon finally takes action then, being the assertive person she is. She grabs his phone for the second time that day and swipes right.

Baekhyun’s voice floods into their ears, but Jongdae cannot focus on it over Taeyeon’s mimed instructions.

_What?_ He mouths back at her. _Why don’t you want to tell him?_

“Just tell him you’re outside for a bit,” she grits out, momentarily muting the call.

“Why? He deserves to know!”

“I thought you liked him! I told you, I can handle this by myself, and we are never getting back together.”

“But why? Why did you break up with him? _Why don’t you want him to know?_ ”

“Um, hello?” the speaker crackles. “Jongdae, are you there?”

They’ve reached a stalemate. Jongdae helplessly watches Taeyeon stare at his phone. Neither of them knows what to do at this point.

“Jongdae, I don’t know if you’re listening. But if you are, I just wanted to tell you.” Baekhyun takes a deep breath down the line; Taeyeon, Jongdae, and even the orange-sized baby hold their breath in anticipation.

“Chanyeol told me about your…..thing with Minseok. I….I asked about your last letter and….well, now I know. I’m sorry. We….we can end the agreement now. You don’t have to help me with Taeyeon anymore.”

Jongdae feels his heart stop in his chest. _What was going on?_

Taeyeon watches him carefully. She then does something that Jongdae doesn’t know whether he should bow to her for or cry.

“Baekhyun,” she commands authoritatively. “Shut the fuck up. I’m pregnant.”

* * *

VI. Minseok

_Hey Min,_

_You’re leaving for college soon, and as much as I try to hide my disappointment, you never fail to notice it. For that, thank you._

_But also, fuck you. Why can’t you notice everything else?_

_I am in love with you. Desperately so._

_Do you just pretend that you don’t know? I don’t know which one would hurt more, to be honest._

_It's like you’ve stuck an icicle through my heart, but nobody will ever know whose hand dealt the blow._

_I think it would melt very quickly too, and because I shine ever so brightly in your presence, Hyung. My body always feels alight, and I can’t focus. If I lose control, I don’t know what I might do._

_But our friendship is something I value dearly. Even when there are days where I’d like to just throw it all away in the prospects of something more, I can’t bring myself to. Maybe that’s why I’ll never be able to confess, left to freeze in the depths of my own tundra._

_But I think this is just as good enough for closure. I think a part of me will love you forever, Minseok, but I’m not weak. I want you to be happy, and I can’t have me hold you back._

_Ever._

_Love, forever and always,_

_Jongdae_

Within the six horsemen of Jongdae’s personal apocalypse, Minseok was the biggest and the baddest. 

Unlike the first five, it had taken Jongdae considerably longer for him to fall for Minseok. How could he when Minseok was always the dependable, older brother figure in his life? It almost felt wrong, a boundary he mustn’t dare to cross, a boy he shouldn’t dare to dream of. 

A man, really.

Everything was complicated by Minseok’s on-again, off-again relationship with a boy named Luhan in his grade. They seemed perfect together, save for the whole breaking up then immediately reconciling part, which only made Jongdae feel more guilty about admitting his love for Minseok.

The Heart Wants What it Wants, à la Selena Gomez. Chanyeol sent him concerned texts when Jongdae looped that song for days.

“Jongdae,” Minseok used to say, voice a little bit raw after another split with Luhan. “What are you listening to?”

Jongdae would wordlessly pass over one of his earbuds, watching Minseok out of the corner of his eye as he placed it into his ear. Minseok would exhale, forehead wrinkling as he registered the song.

“This again?” he would tease. “I thought you would have been tired of this by now, no?”

Jongdae didn’t answer but he would mutedly shake his head. He had far-fetched hopes that if he would always play this song when Minseok was around, the older boy would somehow know. Saving Jongdae from the non-existent possibility of him confessing.

But Minseok would never catch Jongdae’s lingering stares, his faint blushes when Minseok touched him, nor the fact that Jongdae only sang for him. There was nobody he felt as comfortable around as Minseok.

“ _You got me scattered in pieces / Shining like stars and screaming / Lighting me up like Venus_.”

“You have a lovely voice,” Minseok whispered. “Do you know that?”

_Luhan always makes you sad. You cry more than you smile these days, Minseok._

_Why don’t you see me?_

Jongdae initially stopped singing after Minseok moved away. It seemed wrong to handle something that fragile — something only Minseok had been able to hold — and potentially sully it with the touch of others who could never have Jongdae’s heart as Minseok had.

It had helped, being so busy and inundating himself with so much work that Jongdae would compartmentalize the regret. 

Because for some reason, when Minseok bid him goodbye on the bus stop, (after what had seemed like the final breakup with Luhan) his whole body was tightly wound, expression tensed with uncertainty. But Minseok’s eyes had been so vulnerable and open.

Almost as if he expected Jongdae to say something.

When Jongdae froze, Minseok relaxed, pulling him in for a warm embrace. When Jongdae hesitated to hug him back, Minseok took action, encircling Jongdae’s neck and pulling him close. When Jongdae was silent, Minseok pulled back, searching his eyes. He must have found something that satisfied him there, for he let go of Jongdae then.

“It’s okay,” Minseok said softly. He kissed Jongdae on the cheek and left.

Minseok broke Jongdae’s self-ordained cycle, and that had ruined everything. He had finished his letter to Minseok the night before, after so many weeks of trying, then failing. The words had flown through his pen that night, his body and heart ready to wrap up shop.

But panic had seized him when Minseok stood there, waiting for him to bare his soul. _This was not supposed to happen_ , Jongdae thought in distress, as Minseok gathered him up in his arms. Traitorous thoughts lanced up his body, ready to reignite—

_No_.

Jongdae put his foot down. No matter what Minseok wanted, he could not go through this again. Whether Jongdae was the rebound or not, Minseok’s temporary fixation until he inevitably rekindled things with Luhan, Jongdae did not want to pine anymore. 

He cried himself to sleep that night, wondering if he had made the right decision. The following morning, Jongdae covered up his tear tracks and blew everything away.

o.O.o

When he had first sang to Baekhyun, both had been taken aback. Jongdae because of its implications and Baekhyun for its unexpectedness. 

Baekhyun immediately joined him for a duet. Of course, the stinker had a marvelous voice.

o.O.o

Taeyeon and Baekhyun decide to hash things out at the park. It’s surprising how quickly Taeyeon agrees to meet with her ex-boyfriend, given how stringently she had ignored him for months. 

Taeyeon ends up driving Jongdae to their agreed rendezvous, his bike toted in the back of her pick-up truck. People widen their eyes when they pull up to the park’s parking lot: they are a bit of a monstrous sight, a black and expensive-looking behemoth casting shadows across the children playing in the grass and playground apparatuses alike.

Like a bee drawn to honey, Jongdae immediately spots Baekhyun as Taeyeon turns off the ignition. 

“He’s there,” Jongdae points out the direction of their usual table, voice a little unhinged at what is bound to come.

Taeyeon looks at him sideways. 

“Are you okay?”

The question jolts him awake. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Jongdae says with a half-hearted smile, but he can’t hide how fried he sounds. He grimaces after a second.

Taeyeon snorts. 

“I just have a feeling, let’s call it intuition from dating Baekhyun, that you are about to do something very stupid,” she says delicately. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t you dare.”

“I’m not thinking about doing anything!” Jongdae protests. Then he tries to change the subject. “Why aren’t you nervous at all?”

Taeyeon flips her hair back in mock bravado. “It’s Baekhyun, dear. What would he do?”

Jongdae stops to think about it. 

“Um, freak out?”

Taeyeon grins lasciviously. She takes her time to answer, pulling her arms up to stretch her back and shoulders. Jongdae winces at the audible _pops_ of her spine. “He would probably start by trying to assign blame on whoever was responsible for protection that night, which was most likely him, and once he reaches that conclusion, he would probably slander whatever condom company—”

“Okay, okay,” Jongdae yelps, cheeks burning. “I get the picture!” 

Despite their makeout session today (how the fuck was that only this morning), Jongdae hasn’t quite reached Junmyeon-levels of thinking about Baekhyun in that way yet. Which is concerning, given how much he is overreacting now.

Taeyeon narrows her eyes.

“My oh my, Baekhyun has snagged a pious one. You wait until he gets horny, Jongdae. I’m telling you—”

“You do not want to go there!” Jongdae threatens. But then the visions of what he had written in Junmyeon’s letter swims before his eyes and Jongdae feels himself blush a deeper scarlet.

Taeyeon giggles. “Don’t worry, Jongdae, I got you. As his ex, I feel like it is absolutely necessary for me to pass on some knowledge of his tastes.” She rubs her hands in excitement, face glinting in maniacal glee. “You would totally catch him by surprise.”

Before Jongdae can reply to _that_ , the object of their discussion pops up against Taeyeon's side of the window. Jongdae jumps up in surprise.

Baekhyun knocks against the glass, eyes flitting from Jongdae to Taeyeon. Jongdae can’t read his expression, but his lips are pursed.

Taeyeon turns around to consider Baekhyun. They both stare at each other. 

Jongdae shifts nervously. 

_Roll down the window_ , Baekhyun mouths to which Taeyeon peevishly acquiesces. The glass goes down at a tauntingly low pace, and there is only an awkward silence when it has completely retracted. 

“Alrighty,” Jongdae says. He avoids looking at Baekhyun and addresses Taeyeon. “Thank you for the ride. Let me go grab my bike and I’ll leave you two to it.”

o.O.o

Both of them demand that he stays. Jongdae sighs, but he still reluctantly agrees. He inches himself as far away as he can so that he’s not in earshot. 

Fortunately for him, that is a large enough distance because the yelling begins not too soon after he detaches himself. As heated gesticulations between the soon-to-be parents grow, Jongdae’s mind wanders. He lies down on the grass, just like he had a couple of hours earlier.

He wonders if anybody will notice if he slips away.

(He doesn’t notice Baekhyun shooting glances at him.)

His eyelids are heavy and he just wants to sleep away the day’s hubbub. Jongdae imagines walking back home, evening descending upon the air in cool strokes, and rendering his thin shirt useless. He wants to bury himself into a warm bath with lots of bubbles, and then to climb into his nice, soft, and cozy bed. Preferably he will not have to see Jongin in this path he’s envisioning — his brother had run away this morning before Jongdae could exact bloody revenge, but Jongdae’s not in the right headspace to plan any retribution.

Jongdae revives himself from his reverie, turning his head toward the table. They don’t seem as enraged anymore, albeit their tones are still measured and resigned. He wonders whether they have gotten to the condom company slander yet.

He takes his phone out of his pocket to find ten missed calls and a slew of texts from Chanyeol. Jongdae grows alarmed at the repeated _CALL ME!_ ’s, but then he remembers the whole Minseok thing.

“Ah, shit.”

Chanyeol immediately picks up after the first ring.

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol says a bit frantically. “I’m so so sorry! I gave him a ride to your house because he said that he’d planned to surprise you, but when we got there, there had been a package delivered on your doorstep with your name on it from Minseok. Then Baekhyun asked me about Minseok and I panicked and told him that you really liked him and that I had been worried about you for months after he had left because you kind of weren’t the same and—”

_Oh._

Jongdae thought he had done a pretty effective job of convincing others (and himself for that matter) that he was over Minseok. 

Wasn’t he over Minseok? Jongdae furrows his eyebrows. He isn’t sure about anything anymore.

“—Jongdae? Are you listening?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here,” Jongdae says a bit woodenly. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“Sorry?” Chanyeol repeats disbelievingly. “Why on _earth_ are you apologizing? This is all my fault!”

Jongdae supposes that if “fault” could be assigned to anyone, it would all be toward himself. He should’ve never written any of those letters and then left it in a location that could be compromised. He should’ve never fallen for Minseok.

He also shouldn’t have fallen for Baekhyun again. Jongdae is only going to weigh him down, especially now with a baby in the picture.

He reassures the suspicious Chanyeol that he doesn’t hold anything against him and that Jongdae will clarify things with Baekhyun — whatever that will entail — before ending the call. Jongdae closes his eyes once more, trying to relax, but his thoughts inevitably turn to the baby. He tries to imagine what the baby will look like, holistically combining their parents’ features and personalities. 

No matter what though, Jongdae thinks, their baby will be beautiful.

Jongdae’s drifting off by the time he wonders how he can possibly fit into their little family. Whether he can even impose on them like that. There’s a deep-set unease that begins to crawl up his stomach.

_Whatever you are thinking, don’t you dare._

Sleep pulls him away from those thoughts and soothes all his worries.

o.O.o

A soft hand brushes his forehead. “Wake up, Jongdae.”

Jongdae squirms and whines. He’s so tired. He tries to look and see who it is but his eyelids refuse to budge open.

The voice sighs. They lift Jongdae up and drape him over what he groggily registers as a warm lap. Jongdae nestles in and heaves out a heavy breath.

They chuckle and Jongdae realizes that it’s Baekhyun.

“Hey, sleepy,” Baekhyun murmurs. When Jongdae doesn’t say anything, Baekhyun begins playing with his hair. “Taeyeon left a couple of minutes ago, but she gave me your bike before she went.” He traces his eyebrow and draws squiggly lines around it. “She told me to remind you not to do anything dumb, whatever that means.”

Jongdae twitches a little at that, and he knows he’s been caught because Baekhyun lets out a huff.

“Why are you ignoring me?” he complains, yanking lightly on a strand of hair. 

Jongdae opens his eyes and scowls up at Baekhyun. 

“What’d you do that for?”

“Got ya,” Baekhyun loftily says. He kisses his index and middle finger and then rubs it against the hurt as an apology. 

It’s a sweet gesture that has Jongdae blushing immediately. Baekhyun grins triumphantly.

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Baekhyun speaks up.

“Forgive me?” he asks softly. “I think I fucked up.”

Jongdae sighs and heaves out a heavy breath. “I think I did too, Becky.”

Baekhyun places his palms on Jongdae’s cheeks and pats them. He then squeezes them, eliciting a squawk out of Jongdae. They laugh, but Baekhyun sobers again.

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions that quickly. I just...we had just kissed this morning and I felt so insecure when I learned how deeply Minseok had affected you….Which is incredibly selfish of me, I know.” Baekhyun runs a hand through his hair. He steels himself before continuing. “Given the nature of how our relationship began, something like this should have been expected, but all I could think was that just as you said that you were my rebound for Taeyeon, I was equally your rebound for him.” 

Jongdae stares up at him. 

“Not to be self-deprecating or anything like that, but you do realize that you’re my first kiss?” Jongdae stares at Baekhyun’s nose to avoid meeting his eyes. “I don’t think that counts as a rebound.”

“Hmm.”

They are dancing around the subject and they both know it. Jongdae sits up, turning to face him properly. He takes Baekhyun into his arms, hands gently wounding into his hair. Baekhyun melts into his embrace, body more sluggish than usual. 

His hands circle around his waist, face turned into the curve of Jongdae’s neck. He inhales once, deep and heavy. 

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae says. He squirms immediately, but Jongdae cajoles him back into immobility. “Listen to me.”

Baekhyun doesn’t reply. Jongdae takes that as his compliance. 

If he puts up a fight, Jongdae wouldn’t be able to finish.

“You know that I will never, _ever_ hold anything against you,” he murmurs. “If you need to…..” Jongdae stumbles because he doesn’t quite know what to name what they have. They were never dating so a _breakup_ seems wishful and inappropriate. He doesn’t even have the courage to call himself anything more than Baekhyun’s _friend_.

Jongdae thinks he could wait for however long Baekhyun needs, but a baby is not an isolated commitment. _He_ can wait, but he doesn’t want Baekhyun to. 

While he doesn’t doubt Baekhyun’s ability to maintain all the relationships in his life, Jongdae knows that he will be a burden to Baekhyun. It would be better to end things now before anything really begins.

“...end what we have, I understand,” Jongdae finishes, not able to keep his voice from trembling at the end. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to do?” Baekhyun echoes. He tries to dislodge himself out of the embrace. “What are you talking about?” 

“You know what I’m talking about.” Jongdae deflects. He lets go of Baekhyun.

But instead of the relief he'd thought he would feel, there is only shame. It burns through his body.

_You’re running away._

“Jongdae,” Baekhyun says, all traces of amusement wiped off his face. “Are you still mad at what I said earlier? I thought we were going to talk it through right now!”

“You’re going to have a child, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says wretchedly. His hands start shaking, and won’t stop. “I have no doubt in my mind that you are going to be a present father for your baby. I _know_ that. But me being in your life is going to complicate things, and so the best thing for you, Taeyeon, and the baby is for me to _disappear_!”

Jongdae could have probably worded that better. 

But God, his brain is so fried. The day’s twists and turns have finally caught up to him, and Jongdae is pretty sure he’s jumped the gun on whatever he planned to say.

Actually, he is pretty sure that he hasn’t thought this through _at all_.

Baekhyun is stone-faced.

“Do you still have feelings for Minseok?”

_No!_

There is abject certainty to that, but what comes out of his mouth is, “I don’t know!”

Jongdae can see Baekhyun withdrawing away from him, and his heart breaks. He doesn’t know how he has managed to fuck up this bad.

Baekhyun surprises him by reaching out and cupping his cheek. He searches Jongdae’s eyes, and Jongdae can’t stop the tears from welling up then and there.

“You’re lying,” he murmurs. “What’s wrong, Jongdae?”

Baekhyun says his name like it’s a song, and the sudden intensity frightens him. Now Jongdae clams up, panicking and trying to sort out his feelings. Baekhyun waits patiently as he wages war with himself, but Jongdae can see the insecurity flicker in his face.

“I’ve never,” Jongdae’s voice croaks, but he tries again. “I’ve never been truly honest with myself. All those letters—” 

Baekhyun clamps his hands around Jongdae’s twitchy fingers. He inclines his head. 

_Go on._

“Those letters never truly revealed the depth of my feelings. They were all escapist fantasies, written in order to stop my feelings from consuming me.” Jongdae stares at their intertwined hands. For all the bullshit he has spewed tonight, he knows that what he is saying now is true.

He knows what he wants now. But to admit it is so hard.

Jongdae can’t do this right now. He needs time.

He needs to write it out.

The timing is _incredibly_ bad and Jongdae absolutely knows that he is being selfish in taking Baekhyun along his rollercoaster when he had the rug swept from under his feet today. But Jongdae is so bad with spoken words, and he can’t afford to fuck this up even more.

“I need time,” he says aloud. 

Hurt clouds Baekhyun’s expression, and the hands holding his own grow limp.

Jongdae swears in his head. Somebody should stitch his mouth closed because all he does is make things worse.

“No! Sorry, that came out wrong.” Jongdae snatches his hands away and clasps Baekhyun’s cheeks together — like Baekhyun had done to him earlier.

Baekhyun is nothing but vulnerable right now in this state, and he looks one wrong word away from being pitched over a cliff.

Jongdae crashes his lips onto Baekhyun’s, swiftly and deeply, until they both see the stars. 

(He doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing, but judging by the little gasp that Baekhyun emits, Jongdae figures he didn’t mess up too much.)

They break off; Jongdae feels a supreme sense of satisfaction in the way Baekhyun looks now, flushed and panting for air. Baekhyun sours when he notices how Jongdae is looking at him.

“What’s with these mixed signals?” Baekhyun grumbles. “I don’t know what you want with me.”

Jongdae’s head falls on Baekhyun’s chest and Baekhyun automatically adjusts to hold him. Jongdae inhales his warm and comforting scent.

“I will be sorry for a hundred years with the way I have callously treated your feelings today. Today wasn’t easy for you and I’m sorry you had me to add in the uncertainty. I totally understand if—”

“Jongdae, you dramatic fuck,” Baekhyun says sternly. “We’re not going down this line again.”

Jongdae pouts and smacks his head. 

“I’m so sorry. Old habits die hard.”

“I can tell,” Baekhyun deadpans. He leans back and watches Jongdae lazily. “If you apologize to me one more time instead of explaining anything, I’m going to tell Taeyeon that you repeatedly ignored her words.”

Jongdae mirrors his position. “What, like that’s supposed to scare me?”

“She—I….what?” Baekhyun splutters. “Didn’t you just meet her today?” As Jongdae nods, Baekhyun hunches down miserably. “Great. She _likes_ you. I’m going to have a tag-team on my ass now.”

Jongdae boldly reaches out to pinch his ass, but Baekhyun catches it deftly.

“Continue with what you were saying,” Baekhyun drawls as he himself goes in for a butt-grab “And keep those hands to yourself.” 

“I’ve had a revelation,” Jongdae winces when Baekhyun does succeed. Unlike him, Jongdae actually has poor reflexes. “But I won’t be able to articulate it well by speaking. I need to pull out the pen and paper again, you know?

“A good revelation?” Baekhyun asks cautiously.

Jongdae nods. “I know you don't have any reason to trust me after all that shit I just flung at you, but please give me some time to answer your question,” he pleads. “I can’t fuck this up again; you’re too important to me for that.”

Baekhyun blinks in confusion. Then he huffs.

“Has anybody ever told you what a manipulative little shit you are?”

Jongdae gives him a sparkly smile. Baekhyun softens his expression.

“Just...don’t keep me waiting too long, alright? I...I get nervous.” 

Jongdae gives him a light kiss on the forehead to reassure him.

Baekhyun sighs. “You’re lucky that you’re so cute.”

* * *

VII. To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (and to the One I Still Do)

_When I fall in love, I give it my all. My mind, body, and soul bend in subservience to it. For each one of the six I have fallen for, I have given a little memento: a little piece of my soul to safeguard and to keep, in the form of my letters._

_Only they would never know because I would never tell them._

_My fear of rejection is so strong, and I think it began with number 1: Chanyeol Park, my other half, my forever partner-in-crime. My attachment for him grew in tandem with my crush, and it soon subconsciously became a choice between the two. I loved Chanyeol wholeheartedly, for all that romance meant to me as a fourth-grader. But I loved Chanyeol as my best friend more. Nothing was worse than the potential nightmare of losing him if I ever took the risk of confessing._

_It’s like an ouroboros biting its own tail. I set myself up for failure at the start, warping something that should have been so pure into one that I feared. For every single one after Chanyeol, I fought to deny my feelings, feeling like what I was doing was wrong, risking something that hadn’t even begun. My feelings became less and less developed, appearing almost surface level by the way I have written my latter letters._

_In retrospect, I wonder if things would have been different if I had the ability to be honest with myself. I wonder if one of them might have liked me back. I wonder if I would be dating one of them now._

_These past few months have been a revelation. I’m still going to draw and quarter Jongin for delivering the letters, but I am secretly relieved. All of this has been bottled up for so long, and honestly, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off me._

_And knowing me, I couldn’t help but fall in love again during this time. And I’m sorry to you, Baekhyun, for so many things._

_After years of silent pining, each one of them so formative and omnipresent, I couldn’t separate reality from fantasy anymore. When we began fake-dating, it was all too surreal, even if there hadn’t been anything meaningful attached to what we had. The situation was so convoluted, given the present and the past, and I don’t think I can really unpack everything still. Not unless you want me to ramble on for another ten pages, which I’m sure you don’t._

_But Baekhyun, even as our worlds have constantly been changed in the span of mere seconds and I continue to evade most things emotionally, I have become cognizant of one thing: if I had to do this all over again, each disaster at a time, I would do it in a heartbeat if it meant that I could have you in my life now._

_I’m sorry I’m such a mess._

_I love you._

_Jongdae_

He ended up enlisting the help of Pony Express Jongin, anxious about how long the regular mail would take. It was supposed to be symbolic, Jongdae conveying his final sentiments through the same medium that had kickstarted everything, but in the end, it _had_ been Jongin who delivered the letter.

Jongdae makes sure to reward him with ample scoops of mint chocolate at their local ice cream parlor. They sit in front of the shop, Jongin obnoxiously licking away while Jongdae takes more circumspect bites out of his.

It is here that Taeyeon catches them. She plops herself down across the two brothers.

“If verbal confirmation is what you’re looking for, I hereby grant my permission, no, I command you to get together with Baekhyun.”

Jongdae chokes on his ice cream. 

“ _What?_ ”

“Baekhyun and I aren’t compatible,” Taeyeon says, and for a moment there, her eyes swim with regret. “Believe me, we both tried. He knows this too.” She leans over to Jongin, tousling his hair. Jongin makes a face and sticks his tongue out at her. “Your brother?”

Jongdae nods, not trusting himself to say the right thing.

Taeyeon takes another moment to collect her thoughts. “People don’t really know the extent of how much we were on-and-off. I kept him around because he was the only one who could fight back, and he tolerated me because I didn’t expect much.” Taeyeon laughs, but it’s mirthless.

“My dad has orchestrated my entire life, from the moment I was born and before my mother’s body even cooled. If he has it his way, I would have continued to adhere to his plans until the day I die.” Taeyeon’s expression turns draconian. “Starting with this baby, I’m going to fuck up his plans.”

Jongdae instinctively hands Jongin his cone so that he can clamp his brother’s ears.

“You want to raise your child only because you want to send a message to your father?” Jongdae says cautiously, ducking as Jongin tries to bat his hands away. “I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t think that’s wise for the baby.”

“I knew you would say that,” she says wryly. “Baekhyun told me about your bleeding heart.” Jongdae flushes. “But, you don’t have to worry. I do want the baby. The thing with my dad is just icing on the cake. Besides,” she adds darkly, “he can't take away my trust fund.”

“Oh,” Jongdae says feebly. “I’m happy for you, then.”

Taeyeon gives him a smile.

Jongin finally manages to escape out of Jongdae’s grasp. 

“What was that for?” he complains. “I wasn’t even listening!”

“She said a bad word,” Jongdae automatically says.

Jongin bares his teeth. “You say the f-word on a daily basis too, Hyung. You’re one to talk.”

Taeyeon whistles. “Good one, kid!” She reaches out for a high-five which Jongin suspiciously takes.

The conversation devolves for a bit as Taeyeon initiates a conversation with Jongin. Jongdae drowns them out, mulling over all that she has said.

“Jongdae,” Taeyeon calls his name, and Jongdae returns to the present. Jongin is engrossed with a video on an unfamiliar phone that he assumes is Taeyeon’s, which means that her full attention is on Jongdae now.

Taeyeon steeples her fingers underneath her chin and looks at Jongdae critically. “I don’t know what you said to Baekhyun to make him freak out, but co-parenting is a thing, bub. I had a nasty feeling that you would try to do something honorable like break-up with him for my sake, but I’m here to remind you that I don’t need that kind of bullshit. A happy Baekhyun is an efficient Baekhyun, and if it's a heartbroken Baekhyun who has to hold my hand when the baby comes out, I’m going to end your ass.”

Jongdae blinks in surprise. 

“Whether I like it or not, the father of my baby is now going to be in their life because of your actions,” Taeyeon says blasély. “Which, you know, I’m sure I’ll be thankful for later on, but you're going to pretend that you didn't hear me say that.” She jabs a finger in Jongdae’s direction. “Not a word, Jongdae. I swear to God.”

Jogndae grins at her. Happy bubbles flutter in Jongdae’s stomach. 

“Yes ma’am,” he salutes her. “I will take your secrets to my deathbed.”

Taeyeon leans back in her chair, satisfied.

“Good. Now go get him, tiger.”

Jongdae’s smile disappears. He doesn’t quite know how to go about explaining the situation.

“I’ve….um. We’re in the process of reconciling. I’ve sent him a letter, and….yes.”

“You’ve sent him a letter,” Taeyeon repeats dubiously. “Say, what happened to the good ole twenty-first-century technology we have access too?”

“Someday I’ll tell you the whole story,” Jongdae says with a sigh.

Taeyeon harrumphs. “Can’t wait.”

o.O.o

Waiting for Baekhyun to receive and read his letter proves to be an anxious pastime. As a result, Jongdae opts to do the next best activity: opening up the package from Minseok. 

It’s a yellow bubble envelope with bulbous looking contents. Jongdae pokes it around for a bit, trying to discern what it could possibly be. 

Minseok hadn’t called or texted him after what Jongdae supposed was the adequate amount of time for the letter to get to New York. Jongdae listlessly hopes that it’s a sign that the letter got lost.

Jongin passes by his open door. It’s his nth time doing so; Taeyeon has introduced him to some new infernal game that had him trekking all over the house in search of imaginary beasts.

“JongDAEEEE,” he wheedles. “If I hear you squish that mail thing one MORE TIME, I’m going to tell Mom and Dad that you’ve been sneaking out to see your boyfriend at night.”

Jongdae splutters indignantly, but he immediately moves to tear open the package. Despite all of Jongdae’s blustering to punish him, Jongin has thwarted him at every turn and repaid it two-fold.

He’s not going to even bother with demanding how Jongin knew.

The paper gives in with ease and Jongdae dumps all its contents onto the floor.

It’s all a bit anticlimactic. There are a couple of bags of candy — instantly drawing the attention of Jongin, his eyes greedily tracking and cataloging the plastic wrappers and bags — New York souvenirs, and a white letter envelope that is simply addressed to JDK.

Jongdae snatches the envelope off the floor before Jongin can see.

A voice then reverberates from downstairs.

“Um, hello? I’m outside and your front door’s wide open…”

“ _Jongin!_ ” Jongdae hisses. “ _Are you kidding me?_ ”

His younger brother lifts a guilty paw out of a bag of gumdrops. “There was a double-enchanted, Megaslayer five THOUSAND exp power-up. What was I supposed to do, ignore it?”

Jongdae gets up and stomps out of his room. 

“He’ll see whose ass becomes double-enchanted if there is a—” Jongdae stops mid-rant, faltering when he sees who’s at the door.

“Hi.” Baekhyun shyly says. He holds up a familiar yellow paper. “I got your letter.”

Even despite all the times that Jongdae had imagined and fantasized about this moment, nothing has prepared him for the real deal. 

Baekhyun looks like he just came out of the shower, little pink tendrils sticking to his forehead. It looks like he just threw on whatever athleisure that was laying around, but he still looks _so good_ ; Jongdae in contrast feels self-conscious in his rumpled pajama pants and bunny slippers.

“And I never congratulated you on your upcoming parenthood,” Jongdae blurts out.

“Yes,” Baekhyun says ruefully. “I’m becoming a father.” His voice tapers out towards the end, a tinge of novelty clinging on to the word. When Jongdae smiles encouragingly, it becomes stronger. “I’ve been told how instrumental you’ve been in advocating that I be told.”

Jongdae waves him off. “Technically speaking, I was still operating under the terms of our agreement. You wanted to know why Taeyeon had broken up with you, no?”

Baekhyun sucks in a breath.

“Wow, that seems like ages ago,” he admits. He then steps in closer, invading Jongdae’s personal space. “So Jongdae,” he purrs. “Would you like to fill me in on the ten pages of rambling you promised me?”

Jongdae cocks his head. “I don’t seem to recall ever saying that.”

“Is that so?” Baekhyun unfolds the letter in his palm and begins reading it aloud. “I love you. I don’t think I can really unpack everything still. Not unless you want me to ramble on for another ten pages, but I would do anything for—”

Jongdae tries to snatch the letter out of his hand but Baekhyun easily evades him.

“I didn’t say that!”

“Uh-huh, you did!”

“Give it back!”

They grapple with each other, but Baekhyun inevitably cheats by tripping his ankle. Jongdae retaliates by bringing him down with him.

They sprawl on the ground, Jongdae hovering above Baekhyun. They’re in a very compromising position, sandwiched between the possibilities of either Jongin or the world walking in on them. But Jongdae can’t bring himself to care anymore. 

He’s finally with his Becky.

“Taeyeon wanted me to tell you,” Baekhyun starts offhandedly, but his attention is diverted hungrily on his lips. Jongdae’s heart starts hammering in his chest. Baekhyun then looks into his eyes, as if he can hear it. “How would you like to be the baby’s godfather?”

It’s Jongdae who initiates the kiss again, pecking Baekhyun on his nose.

_I would be honored to_ , Jongdae answers with a kiss on his cheek. Baekhyun groans when Jongdae places another one on his forehead.

_If I could dare impose on you like that, I would do anything for your family._

Baekhyun, as always, sees right through him.

“You’re part of my family too, Jongdae. Never forget that.” 

They finally kiss, slow and languid. Jongdae thinks he could melt into a puddle of pure, unadulterated euphoria when Jongin starts screaming.

“EWWW WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING!”

* * *

l'épilogue

Jongdae never did open up Minseok’s letter. So, when Minseok arrives on his doorstep during the winter holidays, he’s at a loss for words.

Baekhyun, screeching carols and making his favorite twice-baked cookies in the kitchen with Jongdae’s mom, bounds over when Jongdae doesn’t respond to his calls.

As soon as he recognizes Minseok, his face turns stone cold. 

“ _He’s mine_ ,” Baekhyun snarls, arms snaking possessively around his waist and fingers digging into his hip bone. It’s a harsh and bony embrace. But for all his posturing, Jongdae can’t deny that he finds his boyfriend hot right now. 

He can’t let Baekhyun know that, of course. His ego has bloated too high as is.

“Oh hush, Becky,” Jongdae says cheerily. To Minseok, he gives him a good-natured smile. 

“Why don’t you come on in,” Jongdae invites. Baekhyun pinches his side but Jongdae ignores him. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading <3
> 
> please leave a comment or two! love to know what you guys think o_O


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